F-46205 


IT90 


■'^WWRV  :  JWW  "  ' 


|SF 


FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,  D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM   TO 

THE    LIBRARY   OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


*. 


DMatea 

Section 


seB 


HORA     LTR/IC& 


F  O  E 

CHIEFLY 

OF    THE    LYRIC     KIND. 

IN    THREE    BOOKS. 

SACRED 

I.     To  DEVOTION  and  PIETY. 

II.  To  VIRTUE,  HONOUR  and  FRIENDSHIP, 

III.     To  the  MEMORY  of  the  DEAD. 

By   I.    WATTS,    D.  D. 


■  Si  non,  Uranie,  Lyram 

Coeleftem  cohibet,  nee  Polyhymnia 
Humanum  refugit  tendere  Barbiton. 

Hor.  Od.  I.  imfut. 

' ASxvxtov  [Av  -STguroi  Qtov,  voftwus  Jichkeitou. 
Ti/Aa,  (x^  <r£(3a  eevrov,)  ramS-'  "H^wa?  a-y«uu?, 
Ta'?  T£  KaTa^SWa?.  Pythag.  Aur.  Car. 


BOSTON: 

Printed  by  S.  Hall,  for  B.  Larkin,  in  Cornhill  ;  J, 
White,  in  Court-ftreet  ;  D.  West,  in  Marlboro'- 
flreet  ;  and  E.  Larkin,  in  Cornhill. 

MDCCXG. 


PREFACE. 

IT  has  been  long  a  complaint  of  the  virtuous  and 
refined  world,  that  Poefy,  whofe  original  is  divine, 
mould  be  enflaved  to  vice  and  profanenefs ;  that  an  art, 
infpired  from  Heaven,  mould  have  fo  far  loft  the  me- 
mory of  its  birth-place,  as  to  be  engaged  in  the  in- 
terefts  of  hell. '  How  unhappily  is  it  perverted  from 
its  moil  glorious  defign  !  How  bafely  has  it  been 
driven  away  from  its  proper  ftation  in  the  Temple  of 
God,  and  abufed  to  much  diihonour  !  The  iniquity 
of  men  has  conftrained  it  to  ferve  their  vileft  purpofes, 
while  the  Sons  of  Piety  mourn  the  factilege  and  the 
fliame. 

The  eldeft  Song  which  Hiftory  has  brought  down 
to  our  ears,  was  a  noble  adl  of  worfhip  paid  to  the 
God  of  Ifrael,  when  his  right  hand  became  glorious  in 
power  :  when  thy  right  hand,  0  Lord,  dajhed  in  pieces 
the  enemy  :  The  chariots  of  Pharaoh  and  his  hojls  were 
cajl  into  the  Red  Sea  ;  thou  didjl  blow  with  thy  wind,  the 
deep  covered  them,  and  they  fank  as  lead  in  the  mighty  wa- 
ters. Exod,  xv.  This  2it  was  maintained  facrtd 
through  the  following  ages  of  the  church,  and  employ- 
ed by  kings  and  prophets  ;  by  David,  Solomon,  and 
Ifaiah,  in  describing  the  nature  and  the  glories  of  Goo, 
and  in  conveying  grace  or  vengeance  to  the  hearts  of 
men.  By  thismethod,  they  brought  fo  much  of  Hea- 
ven down  to  this  lower  world  as  the  darknefs  of  that 
difpenfation  would  admit  ;  and  now  and  then  a  divir.e 
and  poetic  rapture  lifted  their  fouls  far  above  the  level  of 
that  ceconomy  of  fhadows,  bore  them  away  far  into  a 
brighter  region,  and  gave  them  a  glimpfe  of  Evangelic 
day.  The  life  of  angels  was  harmonioufly  breathed  into 
the  children  of  Adam,  and  their  mindi  raifed  near  to 
Heaven  in  melody  and  devotion  at  once. 

In  the  younger  days  of  heathenifm,  the  Mufes  were 


vi  PREFACE. 

devoted  to  the  fame  fervice.     The  language  in  vvhick 
eld  Hefiod  addrefles  them  is  this  : 

Au'TE,   Aj  IVViTTm   (TtpiTlpOV  STXTtf   V[Xl/£iH<rXt . 

Pierian  Mufes,  fam'd  for  heavenly  lays, 
Defcend,  and  ftng  the  God  your  Father's  praife. 

And  he  purfnes  the  fubjedt  in  ten  pious  lines,  which 
I  could  not  forbear  to  tranfcribe,  if  the  afpedl  and 
found  of  fo  much  Greek  were  not  terrifying  to  a  nice 
reader. 

But  fome  of  the  latter  poets  of  the  Pagan  world 
have  debafed  this  divine  gift  ;  and  many  of  the  writer* 
of  the  firft  rank,  in  this  our  age  of  national  Chrillians, 
have,  to  their  eternal  fhame,  furpaffed  the  vileft  of  the 
Gentiles.  They  have  not  only  difiobed  religion  of  all 
the  ornaments  of  verfe,  but  have  employed  their  pens 
in  impious  miichief,  to  deform  her  native  beauty,  and 
defile  her  honours.  They  have  expofed  her  molt  fa- 
cred  character  to  drollery,  and  dreffed  her  tip  in  a  moffc 
vile  and  ridiculous  difguife,  for  the  fcorn  of  the  ruder 
herd  of  mankind.  The  vices  have  been  painted  like, 
fo  many  goddefles,  the  charms  of  wit  have  been  added 
to  debauchery,  and  the  temptation  heightened  where 
nature  needs  the  ftrongell  reltraints.  With  fweetnefs 
of  found  and  delicacy  of  expreflton,  they  have  given  a 
relifh  to  blafphemies  of  the  harfhelt  kind  ;  and,  when 
they  rant  at  their  Maker  in  fonorous  numbers,  they 
fancy  themfelves  to  have  afted  the  hero  well. 

Thus  almoft  in  vain  have  the  throne  and  the  pulpit 
cried  reformation,  while  the  ftage  and  licentious  po» 
cms  have  waged  open  war  with  the  pious  defign  of 
church  and  llate.  The  prefs  has  fpread  the  poifon  far, 
and  fcattcred  wide  the  mortal  infection  :  Unthinking 
youth  have  been  enticed  to  fin  beyond  the  vicious  pro- 
penfities  of  nature,  plunged  early  into  difeafes  and 
death,  and   funk  down  to  damnation  in   multitudes. 


PREFACE.  vii 

Was  it  for  this  that  poefy  was  endued  with  all  thofe 
allurements  that  lead  the  mind  away  in  a  pleafing  cap- 
tivity ?  Was  it  for  this  (he  was  furnifhed  with  fo  many 
intellectual  charms,  that  (he  might  feduce  the  heart 
from  God,  the  oiiginal  beauty,  and  the  moll  lovely  of 
beings  ?  Can  I  ever  be  perfuaded  that  thofe  fweet  and 
refifilefs  forces  of  metaphor,  wit,  found,  and  number, 
were  given  with  this  defign,  that  they  fhould  be  all 
ranged  under  the  banner  of  the  great  malicious  fpirit, 
to  invade  the  rights  of  Heaven,  and  to  bring  fwift  and 
everlalling  destruction  upon  men  !  How  will  thefe  al- 
lies of  the  nether  world,  the  lewd  and  profane  verfi- 
fiers,  (land  aghaft  before  the  great  Judge,  when  the 
blood  of  many  fo.uls,  whom  they  never  faw,  (hall  be 
laid  to  the  charge  of  their  writings,  and  be  dreadfully 
required  at  their  hands  !  The  Rev.  Mr.  Collier  has 
fet  this  awful  fcene  before  them  in  juft  and  flaming  co- 
lours. If  the  application  were  not  too  rude  and  un- 
civil, that  noble  llanza  of  my  Lord  Rofcomraon,  on 
Pfalm  cxlviii.   might  be  addreiTe'd  to  them  : 

Te  dragons,   ivhofe  contagious  breath 
Peoples    the   dark  retreats    of  death, 
Change  your  dire  hij/tngs  into  heavnly  fongs, 
And  praife  your  Maker  ivith  your  forked  tongues! 

This  profanation  and  debafement  of  fo  divine  an  art* 
has  tempted  fome  weaker  Chriftians  to  imagine  that 
poetry  and  vice  are  naturally  akin  ;  or,  at  lead,  that 
verfe  is  fit  only  to  recommend  trifles,  and  entertain 
our  loofer  hours,  but  it  is  too  light  and  trivial  a  me- 
thod to  treat  any  thing  that  is  ferious  and  facred. 
They  fubmit,  indeed,  to  ufe  it  in  divine  pfalmody,  but 
they  love  the  dried;  translation  of  the  pfalm  ben.  They 
will  vWiture  to  fing  a  dull  hymn  or  two  at  church,  in 
tunes  of  equal  dulnefs  ;  but  ftill  they  perfuade  them- 
felves  and  their  children,  that  the  beauties  of  poefy  are 
vain  and  dangerous.  All  that  rifes  a  degree  above  Mr. 
Sternhold  is  too  airy  for  worfhip,  and  hardly  efcapes 
a  z 


Viii  P    R    E    F    A    C    E. 

the  fentence  of  unclean  and  abominable.  It  is  ftrang*, 
that  perfons  that  have  the  Bible  in  their  hands,  (hould 
be  led  away  by  thotightlcfs  prejudices  to  fo  wild  and 
ra(h  an  opinion.  Let  me  intreat  them  not  to  indulge 
this  four,  this  cenforious  humour  too  far,  left  the  facred 
writers  fall  under  the  lafli  of  their  unlimited  and  un- 
guarded reproaches,  Let  me  intreat  them  to  look  into 
their  Bibles,  and  remember  the  ftyle  and  way  of  writ- 
ing that  is  ufed  by  the  ancient  prophets.  Have  they 
forgot,  or  were  they  never  told,  that  many  parts  of  the 
Old  Te  (lament  are  Hebrew  verfe  ? — and  the  figures  arc 
ftronger,  and  the  metaphors  bolder,  and  the  images 
more  furpiizing  and  ftrange,  than  ever  I  read  in  any 
profane  writer.  When  Deborah  fings  her  praifes  to 
the  God  of  Ifrael,  while  he  marched  from  the  field  of 
Edom,  (he  fets  the  earth  a  tremblings  the  Heavens  drop? 
and  the   mountains   diffolve  from  before  the  Lord.      They 

fought  from  Heaven,  theflars  in  their  courfes  fought  againjl 
Sifera  ;  When  the  river  oj 'Kifhon  fwept  them  away,  that 
ancient  river,  the  river  Kifhon,  0  my  foul,  Thou  hafi 
trodden  doivn  Jlrenglh.  Judg.  v.  &c.  When  Eliphaz,  in 
the  book  of  Job,  fpeaks  his  fenfe  of  the  holinefs  of 
God,  he  introduces  a  machine  in  a  vifion  :  Fear  came  ■ 
vpon  me,    trembling  on  all  my  bones,    the  hair   of  my  [fie/h 

flood  up  ;  a  fpirit  puffed  by  and  flood  fill,  but  its  form  was  ■ 
tmdifcernib/e  ;  an  linage  before  mine  eyes,  andfilencc  ;  thai 
I  heard  a  vcice,  faying,  Shall  mortal  man  be  more  jufl  than 
God  ?  &c.  Joo  iv.  When  he  defcribes  the  fafety  of 
the  righteous,  he-hides  him  from  the  fcourge  of  the  tongue  ;  ■ 
he  makes  him  laugh  at  dejlrudion  and  famine  ;  he  brings 
iheflones  of  the  field  into  league  with  him,  and  makes  the 
brute  animals  enter  into  a  covenant  of  peace.  Job  v.  21, 
&c.  When  Job  fpeaks  of  the  grave,  how  melancholy 
is  the  gloom  that  he  fpreads  over  it  !  it  is  a  rc^jn  to 
which  I  tnuft  ibortly  go,  and  whence  Iflsall  not  return  ; 
it  is  a  land  of  darhnefs,  it  is  darhnefs  it  ft  If,  the  land  of  the 
pjadoiu  of  death  ;  all  confuiion  and  def order,  and  whers 
the  tight  is  as  darhnefs.      This  is   my   hovfet   there  have  I 


P  K    E    F   A    C    E, 


IX 


made  my  bed  :  I  have  faid  to  corruption,  ihoW  art  my  fa- 
ther, and  to  the  ivorm,  thou  art  my  mother  and  my  fijler  i 
as  for  my  hope,  whojhall  fee  it  ?  I  and  my  hope  go  down 
together  to  the  bars  of  the  pit,  Job  x.  21.  and  xvii.  13, 
When  he  humbles  himfelf  in  complainings  before  the 
almightincfs  of  God,  what  contemptible  and  feeble 
images  doth  he  ufe  !  Wilt  thou  break  a  leaf  driven  to  and 
fro  ?  wilt  thou  purfue  the  dry  fubble  ?  I  confume  away  like 
a  rotten  thing,  a  garment  eaten  by  the  moth.  Job  xiii.  25. 
&c.  Thou  liftejl  mc  up  to  the  'wind,  thou  caufejl  me  to  ride 
upon  it,  and  dijfolvejl  my  fubjlance.  Job  xxiii.  22.  Can 
any  man  invent  more  defpicable  ideas  to  reprefent  the 
fcoundrel  herd  and  refufe  of  mankind  than  thofe  which 
Job  ufes  ?  ch.  xxx.  and  thereby  he  aggravates  his  owu~ 
iorrows  and  reproaches  to  amazement  :  They  that  are 
younger  than  I  have  me  in  derifi on,  whofe  fathers  I  would  have 
difdained  to  have  fet  with  the  dogs  of  my  ff.ee k  :  For  want 
and  famine  they  were  folitary  ;  ffeeing  into  the  wildernefs,. 
defolate  and  wajle  :  they  cut  up  mallows  by  the  bufhes,  and 
juniper-roots,  for  their  meat  :  they  were  driven  forth  from 
among  men  (they  cried  after  them  as  after  a  thief)  to  dwell 
in  the  cliffs  of  the  vallies,  in  the  caves  of  the  earth,  and  in, 
rocks  :  among  the  buffies  they  brayed,  under  the  nettles  they 
were  gathered  together  ;  they  were  the  children  of  fools,  yea  y 
children  of  bafe  men  ;  they  were  viler  than  the  earth  :  And 
now  am  I  their  fang,  yea,  I  am  their  by-word,  &c.  How 
mournful  and  deje&ed  is  the  language  of  his  own  for- 
rows  !  Terrors  are  turned  upon  him  ;  they  purfue  his  font 
as  the  wind,  and  his  welfare  pajfes  away  as  a  cloud ;  his 
bones  are  pierced  within  him,  and  his  foul  is  poured  out  ; 
he  goes  mourning  without  the  fun,  a  brother  to  dragons, 
and  a  companion  to  owls  ;  while  his  harp  and  organ  are 
turned  into  the  voire  of  them  that  weep.  I  mult  tranferibe 
one  hj?Wcf  this  holy  book,  if  I  would  (hew  the  grand- 
cur,  the  variety,  and  the  juftnefs  of  his  ideas,  or  the 
pomp  and  beauty  of  his  expreffion.  I  muft  copy  nut  a 
good  part  of  the  writings  of  David  and  Ifaiah,  if  I 
would  reprefent  the  poetical  excellencies  of  their  iho'u 


x  PREFACE. 

and  flyle  ;»nor  is  the  language  of  the  lefs  prophets, 
efpecially  in  fome  paragraphs,  much  inferior  to  thefe. 
Now,  while  they  paint  human  nature  in  its  various 
forms  and  circumflances,  if  their  defigning  be  fojull 
3nd  noble,  their  difpufiiion  fo  artful,  and  their  colour- 
ing fo  bright,  beyond  the  moll  famed  human  writers,, 
how  much  more  mud  their  defcriptions  of  God  and 
Heaven  exceed  all  that  is  poffible  to  be  faid  by  a  meaner 
tongue?  When  they  fpeak  of  the  dwelling-place  ofGoD, 
He  inhabits  eternity,  and  Jits  upon  the  throne  of  his  holitiefs, 
in  the  m'tdjl  of  light  inaccejfible.  When  his  holincfs  is 
mentioned,  The  Heavens  are  not  clean  in  his  fight,  he  charges 
his  angels  with  jolly  :  he  looks  to  the  moon,  and  itjhineth 
not,  and  the  Jlars  are  not  pure  before  his  eyes  :  he  is  a  jca~ 
lous  God,  and  a  confuming  fire.  If  we  fpeak  of  (trength, 
Behold  he  isJJrong  :  he  removes  the  mountains,  and  they 
know  it  not  ;  he  overturns  them  in  his  anger  ;  he  floakes  the 
earth  from  her  place,  and  her  pillars  tremble  :  he  makes  a 
path  through  the  mighty  waters  ;  he  difcovers  the  foundations 
of  the  world  :  the  pillars  of  Heaven  are  aflonifloed  at  his  re- 
proof And  after  all,  thefe  are  but  a  portion  of  his  ways  : 
the  thunder  of  his  power  who  can  undtrjland  ?  His  fove- 
reignty,  his  knowledge,  and  his  wifdom,  are  revealed  to 
us  in  language  vaflly  fuperior  to  all  the  poetical  ac- 
counts of  heathen  divinity.  Let  the  pot/herds  jlrive  with 
the  potfherds  of  the  earth  ;  but  Jhall  the  clay  fay  to  him  that 
jajlnoneth  it,  What  makejl  thou  ?  He  lids  the'Heavens  drop 
down  from  above,  and  lets  thejhies  pour  down  righteoujnejs, 
He  commands  the  fun,  and  it  rifeth  not  ;  and  he  fealeth  up 
the  jlars.  It  is  he  t/jat  faith  to  the  deep,  Be  dry,  and  he 
dridh  up  the  rivers.  Woe  to  them  that  feeh  deep  to  hide 
their  counfel  from  the  Lord  ;  his  eyes  are  upon  all  their 
ways,  he  under/lands  their  thoughts  afar  off.  Hell  is  naked 
before  him,  and  dejlrutlion  hath  no  covering.  He  calls  out 
the  jlars  by  their  names  ;  he  jrujlrateth  the  tokens  oj  the 
liars,  arid  makes  the  diviners  mad  :  he  turns  wife  men  back' 
ward,  and  their  knowledge  becomes  jooli/lo.  His  tranf- 
cendent  eminence,  above  all  things,  is  moll  nobly  re- 


PREFACE. 


xi- 


prefcnted,  when  he  Jits  upon  the  circle  of  the  earthy  and 
the  inhabitants  thereof  are  as  grafshoppers  :  all  nations  be- 
fore him  are  as  the  drop  of  a  bucket,  and  as  the  f mall  dujl 
of  the  balance  :  He  takes  up  the  ijles  as  a  very  little  thing  ; 
Lebanon,  with  all  her  beajls,  is  not  fufficicnt  for  a  facrifce 
to  this  God,  nor  arc  all  her  trees  fujfficient  for  the  burning  : 
this  God,  before  whom  the  whole  creation  is  as  nothing, 
yea,  lefs  than  nothing,  and  vanity.  Tu  which  of  all  the 
heathen  gods  then  will  ye  compare  me,  faith  the  Lord, 
and  what  fiall  I  be  likened  to  ?  And  to  which  of  all 
the  heathen  poets  uall  we  liken  or  compare  this  glo- 
rious orator,  the  facred  dtferiber  of  the  Godhead  ? 
The  orators  of  all  nations  are  as  nothing  before  him, 
and  their  words  are  vanity  and  emptinefs.  Let  us 
turn  our  eyes  now  to  fome  of  the  holy  writings,  where 
God  is  creating  the  world  :  how  meanly  do  the  bed 
of  the  Gentiles  talk  and  trifle  upon  this  fubjeft,  when 
brought  into  comparifon  with  Mofes,  whom  Longinus 
himfelf,  a  Gentile  critic,  cites  as  a  mailer  of  the  fu- 
blime  ftyle,  when  he  chofe  to  life  it  :  And  the  Lord 
faid,  Let  there  be  light  :  and  there  was  light  :  Let  there 
be  clouds  and feas ,  fun  andjlars,  plants  and  animals  :  and, 
behold,  they  are  !  he  commanded,  and  they  appear  and 
obey  :  by  the  word  of  the  Lord  were  the  Heavens  made  ; 
and  all  the  ho/1  of  them  By  the  breath  of  his  mouth.  This 
is  working  like  a  God,  with  infinite  eafe  and  omnipo- 
tence. His  wonders  of  providence,  for  the  terror  and 
ruin  of  his  adverfaries,  and  for  the  fuccour  of  his  faints, 
are  fet  before  our  eyes  in  the  Scripture  with  equal 
magnificence,  and  as  .becomes  divinity.  When  he 
arifes  out  of  his  place  the  earth  trembles,  the  foundations  of 
the  hills  are  fhaken,  becaufe  he  is  wroth  ;  There  goes  a 
fmoke  up  out  of  his  nojlrils,  and  Jire  out  of  his  mouth  de- 
vourcth  ;  coals  are  kindled  by  it.  He  bows  the  Heavens 
and  comes  down,  and  darknefs  is  under  his  feet.  The 
mountains  melt  like  wax,  and  flow  down  at  his  prefence. 
If  Virgil,  Homer,  or  Pindar,  were  to  prepare  an  e- 
quipage  for  a  defceuding  God,  they  might  ufe  thunddri 


xn 


PREFACE. 


and  lightnings  too,  and  clouds  and  fire,  to  form  a  cha- 
riot and  hories  for  the  battle,  or  the  triumph  ;  but 
there  is  none  of  them  provides  him  a  flight  of  cherubs 
in  Head  ofhorfes,  or  feats  him  in  chariots  of  falvation. 
David  beholds  him  riding  upon  the  Heaven  of  Heavens, 
hy  his  name  J  ah  !  He  was  mounted  upon  a  cherub,  and 
did  j^y  ;  he  flew  on  the  wings  of  the  'wind  ;  and  Habak- 
kuk  fends  the  pejlilence  before  him.  Homer  keeps  a 
mighty  ftir  with  his  NfpjAny^la  Zsu?,  and  Hefiod 
with  his  Zfu?  uvh^£^£T*ic.  Jupiter,  that  raifes  up 
the   clouds,  and    that    makes   a    noife,  or   thunders  on 

high But  a  divine  poet  makes  the  clouds  but  the  dufl 

of  his  feet  ;  and,  when  the  Highejl  gives  his  voice  in  the 
Heavens,  hailflones  and  coals  of  f  re  follow.  A  divine 
poet  difcovers  the  channels  of  the  waters,  and  lays  open 
the  foundations  of  nature  ;  at  thy  rebuke,  0  Lord,  at  the 
blajl  of  the  breath  of  thy  noflrils.  When  the  Holy  One 
alighted  upon  mount  Sinai,  his  glory  covered  the  Hea- 
vens :  he  flood  and  meafured  the  earth  :  he  beheld  and 
drove  af under  the  nations,  and  the  everlajling  mountains 
ivere  fcattered  ;  the  perpetual  hills  did  bow  ;  his  ways  are 
everlajling.  Then  the  prophet  faw  the  tents  of  Cufhan 
in  affliclion,  and  the  curtains  of  the  land  of  Midian  did 
tremble.  Hab.  iii.  Nor  did  the  bleffed  fpirit,  which 
animated  thefe  writers,  forbid  them  the  ufe  of  vifions, 
dreams,  the  opening  of  fcenes  dreadful  and  delightful, 
and  the  introduction  of  machines  upon  great  occafions  : 
the  divine  licenfe  in  this  refpect  is  admirable  and  fur- 
prifing,  and  the  images  are  often  too  bold  and  danger- 
ous for  an  uninfpired  writer  to  imitate.  Mr.  Dennis 
has  made  a  noble  effay  to  difcover  how  much  fuperior 
is  infpired  poefy  to  the  brighteft  and  bed  defcriptions 
of  a  mortal  pen.  Perhaps,  if  his  Propofal  of  Criticifm 
had  been  encouraged  and  purfued,  the  nation  might 
have  learnt  more  value  for  the  word  of  God,  and  the 
wits  of  the  age  might  have  been  fecured  from  the  dan- 
ger of  Deifm  ;  while  they   mud   have  been  forced    to 


PREFACE. 


xin 


eonfefs  at  lead  the  divinity  of  all  the  poetical  books  of 
Scripture,  when  they  fte  a  genius  running  through 
them  more  than  human. 

Who  is  there  now  will  dare  to  aflert,  that  the  doc- 
trines of  our  holy  faith  will  not  indulge  or  endure  a 
delightful  d re fs  ?  Shall  the  French  poet*  affright  us, 
by  faying, 

T)e  la  fo'i  a"un  Chretien  les  myjleres  terr'ibles 
D'ornemens  egayez.  tie  font  point  fufceptiblcs  P 

But  the  French  critic  f,  in  his  Reflections  upon 
Eloquence,  tells  us,  "  That  the  majtfty  of  our  religi- 
"  on,  the  holinefs  of  its  laws,  the  purity  of  its  morals, 
"  the  height  of  its  myfteries,  and  the  importance  of 
««  every  fubjedr.  that  belongs  to  it,  requires  a  grandeur, 
"  a  noblenefs,  a  majefty,  and  elevation  of  ftyle,  fuited 
"  to  the  theme  :  fparkling  images  and  magnificent  ex- 
"  preffions  muft  be  ufed,  and  are  beft  borrowed  from 
11  Scripture  :  Let  the  preacher  that  aims  at  eloquence, 
"  read  the  prophets  incefTantly  ;  for  their  writings  are 
"  an  abundant  fource  of  all  the  riches  and  ornaments 
"  of  fpeech."  And,  in  my  opinion,  this  is  far  better 
counfel  than  Horace  gives  us,  when  he  fays, 

— — —   Vos  exetnplaria   Greca 
Noclurna  verfate  manu,  vet-fate  dlurna. 

As  in  the  conduct  of  my  ftudies,  with  regard  to  di- 
vinity, I  have  reafon  to  repent  of  nothing  more  than 
that  I  have  not  perufed  the  Bible  with  more  frequency  ; 
fo  if  I  were  to  fet  up  for  a  poet,  with  a  defign  to  ex- 
ceed all  the  modern  writers,  I  would  follow  the  advice 
of  Rapin,  and  read  the  prophets  night  and  day.  I 
am  fure,  the  compofures  of  the  following  book  would 
have  been  filled  with  much  greater  fenfe,  and  appeared 
with  much  more  agreeable  ornaments,  had  I  derived  a 
larger  portion  from  the  holy  Scriptures. 

Befides,  we  may  fetch  a  farther  anfwer  to  Monfieur 

*  Bo'ikau.  -f  Raplti. 


xiv  PREFACE. 

Boileau's  objection,  from  other  poets  of  his  own  coun- 
try. What  a  noble  ufe  have  Racine  and  Corneillc 
made  of  Chrillian  fubjr&s  in  fome  ©f  their  belt  trage- 
dies !  What  a  variety  of  divine  fcenes  are  difplayed, 
and  pious  paffions  awakened  in  thofe  poems !  the  Mar- 
tyrdom of  Polyeu&e,  how  doth  it  reign  over  our  love 
and  pity,  and  at  the  fame  time  animate  our  zeal  and 
devotion  !  May  I  here  be  permitted  the  liberty  to  re- 
turn my  thanks  to  that  fair  and  ingenious  hand*  that 
directed  me  to  fuch  entertainments  in  a  foreign  lan- 
guage, which  I  had  long  vvifhed  for,  and  fought  in  vain 
in  our  own.  Yet  I  mud  confefs,  that  the  Davideis, 
and  the  two  Arthurs,  have  fo  far  anfvvered  Boileau's 
objection,  in  Englifh,  as  that  the  obftacles  of  attempt- 
ing Chriftian  poefy  are  broken  down,  and  the  vain 
pretence  of  its  being  impracticable  is  experimcntally 
confuted-j-. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  the  Chriftian  myfteries  have  not 
fuch  need  of  gay  trappings  as  beautified,  or  rather 
compofed,  the  heathen  fuperftition.  But  this  ttill 
makes  for  the  greater  eafe  and  furer  fuccefs  of  the  poet. 
The  wonders  of  our  religion,  in  a  plain  narration  and 
a  fimple  drtfs,  have  a  native  grandeur,  a  dignity,  and  a 
beauty,  in  them,  though  they  do  not  utterly  difdain  all 
methods  of  ornament.  The  book  of  Revelation  feems 
to  be  a  prophecy  in  the  form  of  an  opera,  or  a  drama- 
tic poem,  where  divine  art  illuftrates  the  fubjeA  with 
many  charming  glories  ;  but  ftill  it  muft  be  acknow- 
ledged, that  the  naked  themes  of  Chriftianity  have 
fomething   brighter   and   bolder  in   them  ;  fomething 

*  Philomela. 

\  Sir  Richard  Blaclmore,  in  his  admirable  preface  to  hit 
lajl  poem  entitled  Alfred,  has  more  copioujly  refuted  all 
Boileau's  arguments  on  this  fubjeB,  and  that  with  great 
jujlics  and  elegance,  1 723 .  /  am  perfuaded  that  many 
perfons  ivho  defpife  the  poem,  would  acknowledge  the  jujl 
fentiments  of  that  preface. 


. 


PREFACE.  xv 

more  furprlfing  and  cclcflial  than  all  the  adventures  of 
and  heroes,  all  the  dazzling  images  of  falfe  luf- 
trc,  that  form  and  garniih  a  heathen  fong  :  Here  the 
very  argument  would  give  wonderful  aids  to  the  Mufe, 
and  the  heavenly  theme  would  fo  relieve  a  dull  hour 
and  a  languishing  genius,  that,  when  the  Mufe  nods, 
the  fenfe  would  burn  and  fparklc  upon  the  reader,  and 
keep  him  feelingly   awake. 

With  how  much  lefs  toil  and  expenfe  might  a  Dry- 
den,  an  Otway,  a  Congreve,  or  a  Dennis,  furnifh  out  a 
Chrillian  poem  than  a  modern  play  !  There  is  nothing 
amongft  all  the  ancient  fables,  or  later  romances,  that 
have  two  fuch  extremes  united  in  them,  as  the  eternal 
God  becoming  an  infant  of  days  ;  the  Poffcffor  of  the 
palace  of  Heaven  laid  to  fleep  in  a  manger  ;  the  holy 
Jtsus,  who  knew  no  fin,  bearing  the  fins  of  men  in 
his  body  on  the  tree  ;  agonies  of  forrow  loading  the 
foul  of  him  who  was  God  over  all,  bleffed  for  ever  ; 
and  the  Sovereign  of  life  (tretching  his  arms  on  a  crofs, 
bleeding  and  expiring  :  the  Heaven  and  the  hell  in  our 
divinity,  arc  infinitely  more  delightful  and  dreadful 
than  the  childifh  figments  of  a  dog  with  three  heads, 
the  buckets  of  the  Belides,  the  furies  with  fnaky  hairs, 
or  all  the  flowery  (lories  of  Elyfium.  And,  if  we  fur- 
vey  the  one  as  themes  divinely  true,  and  the  other  as  a 
medley  of  fooleries  which  we  can  never  believe,  the 
advantage  for  touching  the  fprings  of  pafiion  will  fall 
infinitely  on  the  fide  of  the  Chrillian  poet  ;  our  won- 
der and  our  love,  our  pity,  delight,  and  forrow,  with 
the  long  train  of  hopes  and  fears,  rand  needs  be  under 
the  command  of  an  harmonious  pen,  vvhofe  every  line 
makes  a  part  of  the  reader's  faith,  and  is  the  very  life 
"or  death  of  his  foul. 

If  the  trifling  and  incredible  tales,  that  furnifh  out 
a  tragedy,  are  fo  armed  by  wit  and  fancy  as  to  become 
fovereign  of  the  rational  powers,  to  triumph  over  all 
the  affections,  and  manage  our  fmiles  and  our  tears  at 
pleafure,  how  wondrous  a  conqueft  might  be  obtained 
b 


xvi  PREFACE. 

over  a  wild  world,  and  reduce  it,  at  leall,  to  fobriay, 
if  the  fame  happy  talent  were  employed  in  dreffing  the 
iccnes  of  religion  in  their  proper  figures  of  majefty, 
fweetnefs,  and  terror  !  The  wonders  of  creating  pow- 
er, of  redeeming  love,  and  renewing  grace,  ought  not 
to  be  thus  impioufly  negledted  by  thofe  whom  Heaven 
has  endued  with  a  gift  fo  proper  to  adorn  and  culti- 
vate them  :  an  art,  whofe  fweet  insinuations  might  al- 
moll  convey  piety  into  refilling  nature,  and  melt  the 
hnrdelt  fouls  to  the  love  of  virtue.  The  affairs  of  this 
life,  with  a  reference  to  a  life  to  come,  would  fhine 
bright  in  a  dramatic  defcription  ;  nor  is  there  any 
need,  or  any  reafon,  why  we  fliould  always  borrow  t lie 
plan  or  hillory  from  the  ancient  Jews  or  primitive 
martyrs  ;  though  fcveral  of  thefe  would  furnifh  out 
noble  materials  for  this  fort  of  poefy  :  but  modern 
fcenes  would  be  better  underilood  by  mod;  readers,  and 
the  application  would  be  much  more  eafy.  The  an- 
guiih  of  inward  guilt  ;  the  fecret  flings,  and  racks, and 
Scourges  of  conscience  ;  the  fweet  retiring  hours,  and 
ftraphical  joys  of  devotion  ;  the  victory  of  a  refolved 
foul  over  a  thoufand  temptations  ;  the  inimitable  love 
nnd  paffion  of  a  dying  God  ;  the  awful  glories  of  the 
Jail  tribunal  ;  the  grand  decifive  Sentence,  from  which 
there  is  no  appeal  ;  and  the  confequent  tranfports  or 
horrors  of  the  two  eternal  worlds  ;  thefe  things  may 
be  varioufly  diSpofed,  and  form  many  poems.  How 
might  Such  performances,  under  t»  divine  blefiing,  call 
back  the  dying  piety  of  the  nation  to  life  and  beauty  ! 
This  would  make  religion  appear  like  itfelf,  and  con- 
found the  blafphemies  of  a  profligate  woild,  ignorant 
of  pious  pleafures. 

But  we  have  reafon  to  fear,  that  the  tuneful  men  of 
our  day  have  not  railed  their  ambition  to  fo  divine  a 
pitch  :  I  Should  rejoice  to  fee  more  of  this  ccleltial  fire 
kindling  within  them  ;  for  the  flafhcs,  that  break  out 
in  fome  prefent  and  pafl  writings,  betray  an  infernal 
fource.     This  the  incomparable  Mr.  Cowley,   in   the 


■  - 


PREFACE. 


XVII 


latter  end  of  his  preface,  and  the  ingenious  Sir  Richard 
Blackmore,  in  the  beginning  of  his,  have  fo  pathetic- 
ally defcribed  and  lamented,  that  I  rather  refer  the 
reader  to  mourn  with  them,  than  detain  and  tire  him 
here.  Thefe  gentlemen,  in  there  large  and  laboured 
work?  of  poefy,  have  given  the  world  happy  examples 
of  what  they  wilh  and  encourage  in  profe  ;  the  one  in 
a  rich  variety  of  thought  and  fancy,  the  other  in  all 
the  mining  colours  of  profufe  and  florid  diction. 

If  fhorter  fonnets  were  compofed  on  fublime  fub- 
je&s,  fuch  as  the  Pfalms  of  David,  and  the  holy  tranf- 
ports  intcrfperfed  in  the  other  facred  writings,  or  fuch 
as  the  moral  odes  of  Horace,  and  the  ancient  Lyrics  ; 
I  perfuade  myfelf,  that  the  Chriftian  preacher  would 
find  abundant  aid  from  the  poet,  in  his  defign  to  dif- 
fufe  virtue  and  allure  fouls  to  God.  If  the  heart  were 
firft  inflamed  from  Heaven,  and  the  Mufe  were  not  left 
alone  to  form  the  devotion,  and  puifue  a  cold  fcent, 
but  only  called  in  as  an  afliflant  to  the  wotfnip,  then 
the  fong  would  end  where  the  infpiration  ceafes  ;  the 
whole  compofurc  would  be  of  a  piece,  all  meridian 
light  and  meridian  fervour  ;  and  the  fame  pious  flame 
would  be  propagated,  and  kept  glowing  in  the  heart 
of  him  that  reads.  Some  of  the  fliorter  Odes  of  the 
two  poets  now  mentioned,  and  a  few  of  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Norris's  Efiays  in  verfe,  are  convincing  inilances 
of  the  fnccefs  of  this  propofal. 

It  is  my  opinion  alfo,  that  the  free  and  unconrlried 
numbers  of  Pindar,  or  the  noble  meafures  of  Milton 
without  rhime,  would  beft  maintain  the  dignity  of  the 
theme,  as  well  as  give  a  loofe  to  the  devout  foul,  nor 
check  the  raptures  of  her  faith  and  love.  Though,  in 
my  feeble  attempts  of  this  kind,  I  have  too  often  fet- 
tered my  thoughts  in  the  narrow  metre  of  our  pfdlm- 
tranfhtors,  I  have  contracted  and  cramped  the  fenfe, 
or  tendered  it  obfeure  and  feeble,  by.  the  too  fpecdy 
and  regular  returns  of  rhime. 

If  my  friends  expeft   any   reafon   of  the   following 


xvrii  PREFACE. 

compofurcs,    and  of  the  firft   or  fecond  publication,  I 
intreat  them  to  accept  of  this  account. 

The  title  adores  them  that  poefy  is  not  the  hufincfs 
of  my  life;  and,  if  I  feized  thofe  hour3  of  leifure, 
wherein  my  foul  was  in  a  more  fprightly  frame,  to  en- 
tertain them  or  myfelf  with  a  divine  or  moral  fon'g,  I 
hope  I  fhall  find  an  eafy  pardon. 

In  the  firft  book  are  many  Odes  which  were  written 
to  afiilt  the  meditations  and  worfhip  of  vulgar  Chrif- 
tians,  and  with  a  defign  to  be  publiihed  in  the  volume 
of  Hymns,  which  have  now  paffed  a  fecond  impreffion  ; 
but,  upon  the  review,  I  found  fome  exprtffions  that 
were  not  fuited  to  the  plaineft  capacity,  and  the  meta- 
phors are  too  bold  to  pleafe  the  weaker  Cliriftian, 
therefore  I  have  allotted  them  a  place  here. 

Among  the  fongs  that  arc  dedicated  to  Divine  Love, 
I  think  I  may  be  bold  to  affert,  that  I  never  compofed 
one  line  of  them  with  any  other  defign  than  what  they 
are  applied  to  here  ;  and  I  have  endeavoured  to  fecure 
them  all  from  being  perverted  and  dtbafed  to  wanton 
paffions,  by  fevcral  lines  in  them  that  can  never  be  ap- 
plied to  a  meaner  love.  Are  not  the  noblell  infiancts 
of  the  grace  of  Chrift  represented  under  the  figure  of  a 
conjugal  ilate,  and  defcribed  in  cue  of  the  fvveeteft 
odes,  and  the  fofteft  paftoral,  that  ever  was  written  ? 
I  appeal  to  Solomon*,  in  his  fong,  and  his  father  Da- 
vid, in  Pfalm  xlv.  if  David  was  the  author  :  and  I  am 
well  afTured,  that  I  have  never  indulged  an  equal  li- 
cenfe  :  it  was  dangerous  to  imitate  the  facrcd  writers 
too  nearly  in  fo  nice  an  affair. 

The  Poems  Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c.  were  formed  when 
the  frame  and  humour  of  my  foul  were  juft  fuited  to 
the  f')bje£l  of  my  verfe  :  the  image  of  my  heart  is 
painted   in   them  ;    and,  if  they  meet    with  a   reader 

*  Solomon's  Sor/g  was  much  more  in  ufe  among  preachers 
and  writers  of  divinity  when  thefe  Poems  were  written^ 
than  it  is  now.      1756. 


P    R    E    F    A    C    E.  xix 

whofe  foul  is  akin  to  mine,  perhaps  they  may  agreeably 
entertain  him.  The  dulnefs  of  fancy,  and  coarfenefs 
of  the  exprefiion,  will  difappear  ;  the  famenefs  of  the 
humour  will  create  a  pleafure,  and  infenfibly  overcome 
and  conceal  the  defeats  of  the  Mufe.  Young  gentlemen 
and  ladies,  whofe  genius  and  education  have  given  them 
a  rclilh  of  oratory  and  verfe,  may  be  tempted  to  feek 
fatisfaSion  among  the  dangerous  diverfions  of  the  ftage, 
and  impure  fonnets,  if  there  be  no  provision  of  a  fafer 
kind  made  to  pleafe  them.  While  I  have  attempted 
to  gratify  innocent  fancy  in  this  refpeft,  I  have  not 
forgotten  to  allure  the  heart  to  virtue,  and  to  raife  it 
to  a  difdain  of  brutal  pleafures.  The  frequent  inter- 
pofition  of  a  devout  thought  may  awaken  the  mind  to 
a  ferious  fenfe  of  God,  religion,  and  eternity.  The 
fame  duty  that  might  be  defpifed  in  a  fermon,  when 
propofed  to  their  reafon,  may,  here,  perhaps,  feize  the 
lower  faculty  with  furprife,  delight,  and  devotion,  at 
once  ;  and  thus,  by  degrees,  draw  the  fuperior  powers 
of  the  mind  to  piety.  Amongfl  the  infinite  numbers 
of  mankind,  there  is  not  more  difference  in  their  out- 
ward fhape  and  features  than  in  their  temper  and  in- 
ward inclination.  Some  are  more  eafily  fufceptive  of  re- 
ligion in  a  grave  difcourfc  and  fedate  rcafoning..  Some 
are  bed  frightened  from  fin  and  ruin  by  terror,  threat- 
ening, and  amazement  :  their  fear  is  the  propereft 
pafiion  to  which  we  can  addrefs  outfelves,  and  begin 
the  divine  work  :  others  can  feel  no  motive  fo  pow- 
erful as  that  which  applies  itfelf  to  their  ingenuity  and 
their  polifhed  imagination.  Now  I  thought  it  lawful 
to  take  hold  of  any  handle  of  the  foul  to  lead  it  away 
betimes  from  vicious  pleafures  ;  and  if  1  could  but 
make  up  a  compofition  of  virtue  and  delight,  fuited  to 
the  tafte  of  well-bred  youth  and  a  refined  education,  I 
had  fome  hope  to  allure  and  raife  them  thereby  above  the 
vile  temptations  of  degenerate  nature,  and  cuitom  that  is 
yet  more  degenerate.  When  I  have  felt  a  flight  incli- 
nation to  fatire  orburlefque,  I  thought  it  proper  tofup- 
b  z 


xx  F    R  .  E    F    A    C    E. 

prefs  it.  The  grinning  and  the  growling  Mufe  arc 
not  hard  to  be  obtained  ;  but  I.  would  difdaiu  their 
affiftance,  where  a  manly  invitation  to  virtue  and  a 
friendly  fmiie  may  be  fuccefsfully  employed.  Could  I 
perfuade  any  man  by  a  kinder  method,  1  mould  never 
think  it  proper  to  {cold  or  laugh  at  him. 

Perhaps  there  are  fome  moiofe  readers  that  (land 
ready  to  condemn  every  line  that  is  written  upon  the 
theme  of  love  ;  but  have  we  no*  the  cares  and  the  fe- 
licities of  that  fort  of  focial  life  reprefented  to  us  in 
the  facrcd  writings  ?  Some  expreflions  are  there  ufed, 
with  a  defign  to  give  a  mortifying  influence  to  our  foft- 
eft  affections  ;  others  again  brighten  the  character  cf 
that  (late,  and  allure  viituous  fouls  to  purfue  the  di- 
vine advantage  of  it,  the  mutual  affiitauce  in  the  way 
to  falvation.  Are  not  the  exxviith  and  exxviiith 
Pfalms  indited  on  this  very  fubjedl;  ?  Shall  it  be  lawful 
for  the  prefs  and  the  pulpit  to  treat  of  it  with  a  be- 
coming folemnity  in  profe,  and  mult  the  mention  of 
the  fame  thing  in  poefy  be  pronounced  for  ever  una 
fSwful  ?  Is  it  utterly  unworthy  of  a  ferious  character 
to  write  on  this  argument,  becaufe  it  has  been  unhap- 
pily polluted  by  fome  fcurrilo us  pens  ?  why  may  I  not 
be  permitted  to  obviate  a  common  and  a  growing  mif- 
chief,  while  a  thoufand  vile  poems  of  the  amorous  kind 
fwarm  abroad,  and  give  a  vicious  taint  to  the  unwary 
reader  ?  I  would  tell  the  world  that  I  have  endeavour- 
ed to  recover  this  argument  out  of  the  hands  of  im- 
pure writers,  and  to  make  it  appear,  that  virtue  and 
love  are  not  fuch  ftrangers  as  they  are  rcprefented. 
The  blifoful  intimacy  of  fouls,  in  that  (late,  will  afford 
fufficient  furniture  for  the  graven:  entertainment  in 
verfe  ;  fo  that  it  need  not  be  cvcrlaftingly  drcifed  up 
in  ridicule,  nor  aflumed  only  to  furnifli  out  the  lewd 
fonnets  of  the  times.  May  fome  happier  genius  pro- 
mote the  fame  fervice  that  I  propofed,  and,  by  fuptrior 
fenfe  and  fweeter  found,  render  what  I  have  written 
contemptible  and  ufclefs  ! 


PREFACE.  xxi 

The  imitations  of  that  noble  Latin  poet  of  modern 
ages,  Calimire  Sarbicwiki  of  Poland, -would  need  no 
excufe,  did  thty  but  arife  to  the  beauty  of  the  origi<- 
n3l.  I  have  often  taken  the  freedom  to  add  ten  or 
twenty  lines,  or  to  leave  out  as  many,  that  I  might 
fuit  my  fong  more  to  my  own  defign,  or  becaule  I  law 
it  impoffible  to  prefent  the  force,  the  finenefs,  and  the 
fire,  of  his  exprefiion,  in  our  language.  There  are  a 
few  copies  wherein  I  borrowed  fome  hints  from  the 
fame  author,  without  the  mention  of  his  name  in  the 
title.  Methinks  I  can  allow  To  fuperior  a  genius  to  be 
now  and  then  lavifli  in  his  imagination,  and  to  indulge 
fome  excurlions  beyond  the  limits  of  fedate  judgment  : 
The  riches  and  glory  of  his  verfe  make  atonement  in 
abundance.  I  wifh  fome  Englifh  pen  would  import 
more  of  his  treafures,  and  blefs  our  nation. 

The  inferiptions  to  particular  friends  are  warranted 
and  defended  by  the  practice  of  alrr.oil  all  the  lyric 
writers.  They  frequently  convey  the  rigid  rules  of 
morality  to  the  mind,  in  the  fofter  method  of  applaufe. 
Sullained  by  their  example,  a  man  will  not  be  eafity' 
overwhelmed  by  the  heavielt  ceniures  of  the  unthink- 
ing and  unknowing  ;  efpecially  when  there  is  a  fhadow 
of  this  practice  in  the  divine  Plalmilt,  while  he  in- 
fcribes  Jo  Afaph  or  Jednthun  his  fongs  that  were  made 
for  the  harp,  or  £  which  is  all  one)  his  .Lyric  Odes, 
though  they  are  addrefled  to  God  himfelf. 

In  the  Poems  of  heroic  meafure,  I  have  attempted 
irr  rhime  the  fame  variety  of  cadence,  comma,  and  pe- 
riod, which  blank  verfc  glories  in,  as  its  peculiar  ele- 
gance and  ornament.  It  degrades  the  excellency  of 
the  bell  verfrf»c3tion  when  the  lines  run  on  by  couplets, 
tAventy  together,  ju(l  in  the  fame  pace,  and  with  the 
fame  paufes.  It  fpoils  the  noblelt  pleafure  of  the 
found  :  the  reader  is  tired  with  the  tedious  uniformi- 
ty, or  charmed  to  fleep  with  the  unmanly  foftnefs  of 
the  numbers,  and  thcperpetnal  chime  of  even  cadences. 

In  the  Eflays  without  rhime,  I  have  not  fee  up  Mil- 


xxii  PREFACE. 

ton  for  a  perfect  pattern  ;  though  he  fhall  be  for  ever 
honoured  as  our  deliverer  from  the  bondage.  His 
works  contain  admirable  and  unequalled  inftances  of 
bright  and  beautiful  diction,  as  well  as  majefty  and  fe- 
renenefs  of  thought.  There  are  feveral  epifodes,  in 
his  longer  works,  that  lland  in  fupreme  dignity  with- 
out a  rival  ;  yet  all  that  valt  reverence  with  which  I 
read  his  Paradife  Loft,  cannot  perfuade  me  to  be 
charmed  with  every  page  of  it.  The  length  of  his 
periods,  and  fometimes  of  his  parenthefes,  runs  me  out 
of  breath  :  fome  of  his  numbers  feem  too  harfh  and 
nneafy.  I  could  never  believe,  that  roughnefs  and  ob- 
fcurity  added  any  thing  to  the  true  grandeur  of  a  poem  : 
Nor  will  I  ever  affect  archaifms,  exoticifms,  and  a  quaint 
uncouthnefs  of  fpeech,  in  order  to  become  perfectly 
Miltonian.  It  is  my  opinion,  that  blank  verfe  may  be 
written  with  all  dne  elevation  of  thought  in  a  modem 
ftyle,  without  borrowing  any  thing  from  Chaucer's 
Tales,  or  running  back  fo  far  as  the  days  of  Colin  the 
Shepherd,  and  the  reign  of  the  Fairy  Queen.  The 
oddnefs  of  an  antique  found  gives  but  a  falfe  pleafure 
to  the  ear,  and  abufes  the  true  relifli,  even  when  it 
works  delight.  There  were  fome  fuch  judges  of  potfy 
among  the  old  Romans  ;  and  Martial  ingenioufly 
laughs  at  one  of  them,  that  was  pleafed,  even  to  afton- 
ifhment,  with  obfolete  words  and  figures. 

Atton'ilufque  legis  terra'i  frugiferai. 
So  the  ill-diawn  poltures  and  diftortion  of  fhape,  that 
we  meet  with  in  Chinefe  pictures,  charm  a  fickly  fancy 
by  their  very  awkwardnefs  ;  fo  a  diftempered  appetite 
will  chew  coals  and  fand,  and  pronounce  them  guftful. 
In  the  Pindarics,  I  have  generally  conformed  my 
lines  to  the  thorter  fize  of  the  ancients,  and  avoided  to 
imitate  the  exceffive  length  to  which  fome  modern 
writers  have  Itretched  their  fentences,  and  efpecially 
the  concluding  vtrife.  In  thefe  the  ear  is  the  truer! 
judge  :  nor  was  it  made  to  be  enflaved  to  any  precife 
model  of  elder  or  later  times. 


PREFACE. 


xx  n  i 


After  all,  I  mull  petition  my  reader  to  lay  afide  the 
four  and  fullen  air  of  criticifm,  and  to  affume  the 
friend.  Let  him  choofe  fuch  copies  to  read  at  parti- 
cular hours,  when  the  temper  of  his  mind  is  iuited  to 
the  fong.  Let  him  come  with  a  defire  to  be  enter- 
tained and  pleafed,  rather  than  to  feek  his  own  difguft 
and  averfion,  which  will  not  be  hard  to  find.  I  am 
not  fo  vain  as  to  think  there  are  no  faults,  nor  fo  blind 
as  to  cfpy  none  :  though  I  hope  the  multitude  of  al- 
terations mi  the  fecond  edition  3re  not  without  amend- 
ment. There  is  fo  large  a  difference  between  that  and 
the  former,  in  the  change  of  titles,  lines,  and  whole 
poems,  as  well  as  in  the  various  tranfpofitions,  that  it 
would  be  ufelefs  and  endlefs,  and  all  confufion,  for  any 
reader  to  compare  them  throughout.  The  additions, 
alfo,  make  up  almoft  half  the  book  ;  and  fonne  of  thefe 
have  need  of  as  many  alterations  as  the  former.  Many 
a  line  needs  the  file  to  polifh  the  roughtufs  of  it  ;  and 
many  a  thought  wants  richer  language  to  adorn  and 
make  it  fhine.  Wide  defects  and  equal  fupeifluities 
may  be  found,  efpecially  in  the  larger  pieces  ;  but  I 
have  at  prefent  neither  inclination  nor  leifure  to  cor- 
rect, and  I  hope  I  never  lhall.  It  is  one  of  the  biggetl 
fatisfadlions  I  take,  in  giving  this  volume  to  the  world-, 
that  I  expeft  to  be  for  ever  free  from  the  temptation 
of  making  or  mending  poems  again.*  So  that  my 
friends  maybe  perfectly  fectire  againft  this  impreffion's 
growing  wade  upon  their  hands,  and  ufelefs,  as  the 
former  has  done.  Let  minds  that  are  better  furnifhed 
for  fuch  performances  purfue  thefe  (Indies,  if  they  are 
convinced  that  poefy  can  be  made  ferviceable  to  religion 
and  virtue.  As  for  myfelf,  I  almoft  blufh  to  think 
that  I  have  read  fo  little  and  written    fo  much.     The 

*  Nnturam  expellas  furca  1'tcet,  ufque  recurret.  Hor, 
Will  thisihorc  note^  of  Horace  e'xcufe  a  man  who  has 
refifted  nature  many  years,  but  has  been  fometimes 
overcome  ?    1736.    Edition  the  7th. 


XXIV 


PREFACE. 


following  years  of  my  life  (hall  be  more  entirely  de- 
voted to  the  immediate  and  dirttr.  labours  of  my  fta- 
tion,  excepting  thofe  hour;;  that  may  be  employed  in 
fiuithiiig  my  imitation  of  the  Pfalms  of  David  in  Chrif- 
tta.n  Language,  which  I  have  now  promifed  the  world. f 
I  cannot  court  the  world  to  purchafe  this  book  for 
their  pleafure  or  entertainment,  by  telling  them  that 
any  one  copy  entirely  pltafes  me.  The  bed  of  them 
finks  below  the  idea  which  I  form  of  a  Divine  or  Moral 
Ode.  He  that  deals  in  the  myfteries  of  Heaven  or  of 
the  Mufes,  (hould  be  a  genius  of  no  vulgar  mould  : 
and,  as  the  name  Vatea  belongs  to  both,  fo  the  furni- 
ture of  both  is  comprifed  in  that  line  of  Horace, 

Cut  mens  d'iviniory  atque  os, 


Magna  fonaturum. 

But  what  Juvenal  fpake  in  his  age  abides  true  in 
ours  :    a  complete  poet  or  a  prophet  is  fuch  a  one  ; 

Quaiem  nequeo  monjlrare,   et  fent'to  tantum. 

Perhaps  neither  of  thefe  characters  in  perfection  (hall 
ever  be  feen  on^arth,  till  the  feventh  angel  has  found- 
ed his  awful  trumpet  ;  till  the  victory  be  complete 
over  the  beaft  and  his  image,  when  the  natives  of  Hea- 
ven fhall  join  in  concert  with  prophets  and  faints,  and 
fing  to  their  golden  harps,  Salvation,  honour,  and  gt'orj 
to  Him  that  fits  upon  the  throne,  and  to  the  lamb  for  ever  J 


May    14,    1709. 


f  In  the  year  1 7 19  thefe  were  fnifhed  and  printed. 


TABLE    OF    THE    POEMS 

CONTAINED    IN    THE    FIRST    BOOK. 

Page 

TJ/'OrJhipping   ivith  Fear,  \ 

*       Ajking  have  to  fing,              ...  3 

Divine  Judgments,  4 

Earth  and  Heaven,  6 

Felicity  Above,  7 

God's   Dominion  and  Decrees,  8 

Se If  Confecration,                 -                 -                 -  I O 

The   Creator  and  Creatures,          -            -             -  II 

The   Nativity  of  Chrift,           -                -                -  13 

God  glorious,  and  Sinners  faved,          -             -  14 

The  humble  Inquiry  :  a  French  Sonnet  imitated,  1 6 

The  Penitent  pardoned,             -               -                -  17 

A  Hymn  of  Praife  for  Three  great  Salvations,       -  18 

The  Incomprehenfible ,                -                -                -  21 

Death  and  Eternity,              -               -               -  22 

A  Sight  of  Heaven  in  Sicknefs,        -          -          -  23 

The  Univerfal  Hallelujah,  Pfalm  cxlviii.            -  25 

The  Atheijfs  Miflake,              -              -              -  27 

The  Law  given  at  Sinai,            -             -             -  28 

Remember  your   Creator,          -                  „   -           -  33 

Sun,   Moon,  and  Stars,  praife  ye  the  Lord,          -  35 

The  Welcnme  Mejfenger,  -  -  -  36 
Sincere  Praife,  -  -  -  -  "37 
True  Learning,           -                -                -                "39 

True   Wifdom,            -               -               -               -  4 1 

Song  to  Creating  Wifdom,                        -    -             -  43 

God's  Abfolute  Dominion,          -  46 

Condefcending   Grace,                ...  48 

The  Infinite,            -----  49 

Confeffion   and  Par  den,             -                -                -  50 

Tonng  Men  and  Maidens,   Sec  praife  ye  the  Lord,  52 

Flying  Fowl,  Sic.  praife  ye  the  Lord,               -  54 

The  Comparifon  and  Complaint,          -          -          -  55 


xxvi  A     TABLE. 

God  fupveme  and  felf-f;ijjicientt             -              -  c  (j 

Jefus  the  only   Saviour,               -             .             .  c- 

Looking  upward,              -             -             -             .  j-q 

Chrifl  dying,   rifmg,   and  reigning,            -              .  60 

The  God  of  Thunder,           -             -             -            -  6 1 

The  Day  of  Judgment,  in  Englifi  Sapphic,         -  62 

The  Song  of  Angels  above,            -             -              -  64 

Fire,  Air,  Earth,  and  Sea,  praife  ye  the  Lord,      -  67 

The  Fa  re 'well,           -            -            -            .            -  6g 

God  only  known  to  himfelf               -                 -  69 

Pardon  and  Sanclifcation,            -             -             .  70 

Sovereignty   and  Grace,             -                -                .  72 

The  Law  and  Gofpel,           -            -             -  j? 

Seeking  a  divine  Calm,  occ.  Cafimir.  B.  IV.  Od.  2S.  74 

Happy   Frailty,                 -               -                .              .  y^ 

Launching  into   Eternity,             -  77 

A  Prof  peel  of  the  Rejurretlion,           -           -           -  77 

Ad  Dominujp  noflrum  jfefum  Chriflum  :   Oda,        -  ^g 

Sui  ipjius  Increpatio  :   Epigramma,            •            -  82 

Excitatio  Cordis  Cesium  verfus,             -                -  82 

Breathing  toivards  Heaven,    Cajlmir.  B.  I.  Od.  in.  83 

In  Sanctum  Ardalionem,  &c.  Cafun.  Epigr.  100.      -  84 
On  the  Protejlant   Church  at  Montpeiier  demo/i/hed ; 

two  Latin  Epigrams  Englijhed,           -           -  8  c 

Two  happy  Rivals,   Devotion  and  the  Mufe,        -  86 

On   Divine   Love. 

The  Hazard  of  loving  the  Creatures,          -          -  90 

Dtfiring  to  love  ChriJ},             -                .                .  m 

The  Heart  given  away,           -           -           -             -  g3 

Meditation  in  a  Grove,             -              -             -  g  3 

Tie  Faircfl  and  the  only  Beloved,            -             -  94 

Mutual  Love  Jl range r  than  Death,           -            -  96 

A  Sight  of  Chrijl,  gj 

Love  on  a  Crofs  arul  on  a  Throne,            -            -  1 00 

A  Preparatory  Thought  for  the  Lord's  Supper,       -  lo\ 

Couvcrfc   with  Chrifl,             -           -            .            .  102 

(I race  Jhinitig  and  Nature  funiing,                 -  104 


A     TABLE,  xxvii 

Lave  to  Chrifl,  prefnt  or  abfenf,           -            -  1 06 

The  Ab fence  of  Chrifl,               -              -             -  1 07 

Defir'ing  his  Defcent  to  Earthy             -               -  1 09 

A/cending  to  Him  in  Heaven,           -           -           -  1IO 

the  Prefencc  0/  God  worth  dying  for,  I  1 1 

Longing  for  his  Return,             -             -             -  112 

Hope  in  Darknefs,          -             -             -              •  1 1 3 

Come ,   Lord  Jefas,                -                -                -  1 1  5 

Bewailing  my  own  Inconflancy ,            -             -  116 

For  J j  ken,  yet  hoping,           -               -               -  I  18 

The  Conclufion,                -                -                -  1 1 9 
IN  THE  SECOND  BOOK. 

To  Her  Majefly,           -             -             -             -  1 2 1 

Palinodia,          -           •          -          -           -          -  124 

To  John  Locke,  Efq.   retired  from  bnfmefs,          -  125 

To  John  Shute,  Efq.   on  Mr.  Locke's  Death,  126 

To  Mr.  William  Nokes  :    Friend/hip,              -  127 

To  Nathanael  Gould,  Efq.          -          •            -  128 

To  Dr.  Thomas  Gibfcn  :   Tin  Life  of  Souls,       -  129 

To  Mylo  :   Falfe  Greatnefs,               -              -  I  3  1 

To  Sari/fa  :  An  Epijlle,          -             -              -  132 

To  Mr.  Thomas  Bradbury  :  Paradife,               -  134 

Stricl  Religion  very  rcre,            -             -             -  137 

To  Mr.  C  and  S.  Fleetwood,              -            -  139 
To  Mr.  Wm.  Blackbourn  ;   Caftm.  B.  II.  0 d.  2.       14c 

True  Monarchy t               -                -                 -  I4.I 

True  Courage,                -                -                -  143 

To  the  Rev.  Mr.  T.  Rowe  :  Free  Philofophy,  145 
To  the  Rev.  Mr.  B.  Rowe:  The  Way  of  the  Multitude,  146 

To  the  Rev.  Mr.  John  Howe,            -             -  147 

The  Difappointment  and  Relief,          -          -  1 49 

The  Hero's  School  of  Morality,             -             -  X50 

Freedom,          -           -          -          -          -          -  152 

On  Mr.  Locke's  Annotations,  &c.                -  15^ 

True  Riches,           -            -            -            -            -  155 

The  Adventurous  Mufe,          -               -               -  157 

To  Mr.  N.  Clark  :  The  Complaint,        -         -  \^ 
c 


XXV111 


A     TABLE. 


The  AJJllclions  of  a   Friend,  -  -  160 

The  Rcverfe  :  or,  The  Comforts  of  a  Friend,  -  162 
To  the  Rt.  Hon .  John  Lord  Cults  :  The  Hardy  Soldier,  1 6  3 
Burning  federal  Poems  of  Ovid,  Martial,   iyc  j 64 

To  Mrs.  B.  Bendijh  :  AgainJ   Tears,  -  165 

Few  Happy  Matches,  -  -  -  166 

To  David  Polhil!,Efq.   An  Epijlle,  -  -  168 

The  celebrated  ViHory  of  the  Poles  ,&c.  CafBAV.Od.4..  1 70 
To  Mr.  Henry  Berultjh  :  The  Indian  Philofopher,  176 
The  Happy   Man,  -  -  -  -  179 

An  AnpLvcr  to  an  infamous  Satire  again/}  King  William,  1 82 
To  theDifcontented  and  Unquiet,  Cafm.BAV.  Od.15.  186 
To  John  Hartopp,  Efq.    Cafim.  B.  IV.  Od.  4.  188 

ToT.  GunJlon.Efq. Happy  Solitude, Cafi.B .IV .Od.  12.  190 
To  John  Hartopp,  Efq.    The  Difdain,  -  192 

To  Mi/io,  my  Friend  :  The  Mourning  Piece ,  -  193 
The  Second  Pari  :  or  the  Bright  Vifion,  -  197 

The  Third  Part  :  or  the  Account  balanced,  -  203 
On  the  Death  of  the  Duke  oj 'Glcuccfter ■,  &c.  An  Epigram,  205 
An  Epigram  of  Martial  to  Cirinus  dnfetibed 'to  Mr.Hort,  2  06 
Epijlola  Fratri  fuo  dileclo,   R.  W.  -  207 

Fratri  olim  navigaturo,  -  -  -  -         209 

Ad  referendum   Virum  Dom.  Johannem  Pinhornt  : 

Carmen  Pindaricum,  -  -  -  2  10 

Ad  Johannem  Hartoppium,  Baronettum  :   Votum,  feu 

Vita  in  Terris  beata,  -  -  -  2 1 3 

To  Mrs.  Singer  ;  on  the  Sight  of  fome  of  her  Divine 

Poems  vnprinted,  -  -  -  -  2 1 5 

IN   THE   THIRD    BOOK. 

An  Epitaph  on  King  William  the  Third,  -            2  1 7 

An  Elegiac  Song  on  Mrs.  Peacock,           -  -           219 

Epilaphium  Domini  Nathanaelis  Matheri,  -            220 

An  Elegiac  Thought  on  Mrs.  Anne  Warner,  -        223 

On  the  Death  of  Mrs.  M.  W.             •  -              227 

A  Funeral  Poem  on  Thomas  Gunjlon,  Efq.  -         229 

An  Elegy  on  the  Reverend  Mr.  Gouge,  -             2  44 


xxix 

" '  '        '  i  r 

ON     READING 
Mr.     W  A  T  T  S  '  s     POEMS, 

Sacred  to  Piety  and  Devotion. 

REGARD  the  man,  who  in  feraphic  lays 
And  flowing  numbers,  fings  his  Maker's  praife  : 
lie  needs  invoke  no  fabled  Mufe's    art, 
The  heavenly  fong  comes  genuine  from  his  heart, — 
From  that  pure  heart   which  God  has  deign'd  t'infpire 
With  holy  raptures  and  a  facred  fire. 
Thrice  happy  man  !    whofe  foul  and  guiltlefs  breaft 
Are  well  prepar'd  to  lodge  th'almighty  Guefl:  ! 
'Tis  He  that  lends   thy  tow'ring  thoughts  their  wing., 
And  tunes  thy  lyre  when  thou  attempt'fl  to  ling  : 
He   to  thy  foul  lets  in  celeftial  day, 
Ev'n  whilft  imprifon'd  in  this  mortal  clay. 
By  Death's  grim  afpe«5l  thou  art  not  alarm'd  ; 
He,  for  thy  fake,  has  death  itfelf  cifarnv'd  ; 
Nor  fhall  the  grave  o'er  thee  a  vi&ory  boaft  ; 
Her  triumph  in  thy  fifing  (hall  be  loll, 
When  thou  (halt  join  th'angclic  choirs  above, 
*a  never-ending  fongs  of  praife  and  love  ! 

E USES  I  i 


T  O 

Mr.      WATTS, 

ON      HIS 

POEMS  SACRED  TO  DEVOTION 
I. 

TO  murmuring  dreams,  in  tender  ftrains3 
My  penfive  Mufe  no  more 
Of  love's  enchanting  force  complains 
Along  the  flow'ry  fhore. 


XXX  TO   MR.  I.  WATTS. 

II. 

No  more  Mirtilio's  fatal  face 

My  quiet  breaft  alarms  ; 
His  eyes,  his  air,  and  youthful  grace, 

Have  loll  their  ufual  charmg. 
III. 
No  gay  Alexis  in  the  grove 

Shall  be.  my  future  theme  ; 
I.  burn  with  an  immortal  love, 

And  ling  a  purer  flame. 
IV. 
Seraphic  heights  I  feem  to   gain, 

And  facred  tranfports  feel. 
While  WATTS,  to  thy  celeftial  Grain, 

Surpriz'd,  I  liften  £1111- 
V. 
The  gliding  dreams  their  courfc  forbear 

When   I  thy  lays  repeat  ; 
The  bending  foreft  lends  an  ear  ; 

The  birds  their  notes  forget. 
VI. 
With  fuch  a  graceful  harmony 

Thy  numbers  (till  prolong  ; 
And  let  remoteft  lands  reply, 

And  echo  to  thy  fong. 
VII. 
Far  as  the  diftant  regions,  where 

The  beauteous  morning  fprings, 
And  fcatters  odours  through  the  air 

From  her  refplendent  wings, 
VIII. 
Unto  the  new-found  realms,  which  fee 

The  latter  fun  arife, 
When,  with  an  eafy  progrefs,  he 

Rolls  down  the  ancient  ikies. 

July,  1706. 

PHILOMELA. 


TO    MR.  I.  WATTS.  XXXI 

TO     THE     REV. 

Dr.      WATTS, 
ON     HIS     DIVINE     POEMS. 

I. 

SAY,   fmiling  Mufe,  what  heav'nly  ftrain 
Forbids  the  waves  to  roar  ; 
Comes  gently  gliding  o'er   the  main, 
And  charms  our  lift'ning  more  ! 

II. 
What  angel  ftrikes  the  trembling  firings  j 

And  whence  the  golden   found  ! 
Or  is  it  Watts — or  Gabriel  ilngs 

From  yon  celeftial  ground  ? 
III. 
5Tis  thou,  feraphic  Watts  ;  thy  lyre 

Plays  foft  along  the  floods  ; 
Thy  notes  the  anfw'ring  hills  infpire, 

And  bend  the  waving  woods. 

IV. 

The  mead3,  with  dying  mufic  fill'd, 

Their  fmiling  honours  fliow, 
While,   whifp'ring  o'er  each  fragrant  fieic 

The  tuneful  breezes  blow. 
V. 
The  rapture  founds  in  ev'ry  trace, 

Ev'n  the  rough  rocks  regale, 
Frefh  flow'ry  joys  flame  o'er  the  face 

Of  ev'ry  laughing  val?. 

VI. 

And  thou,  my  foul,  the  tranfport  oftn 

Fir'd  with  immortal  heat  ; 
Whilft  dancing  pulfes  driving  on, 

About   thy  body  beat, 

C    2 


MO 


XXXfl  TO    MR.  I.  WATTS, 

VII. 
Long  as  the  fun  fhall  rear  his   head, 

And  chafe  the  flying  glooms, 
As  blufljing  from   hia  nuptial  bed 

The  gallant  bridegroom  comes  : 

VIII. 

Long  as  the  dufky  ev'ning  flies, 

And  flieds  a  doubtful  light, 
While  fudden  rufh  along  the  ikies 

The  fable  fhades  of  night  : 
IX. 
O  Watts,  thy  facred  lays  fo  long. 

Shall  ev'ry .  bofom  fire  ; 
And  ev'ry  Mufe,   and  ev'ry  tongue 

To  fpeak  thy  praife  confpire. 
X. 
When  thy  fair  foul  {hall  on  the  wingj 

Of  fhouting  feraphs  rife, 
And  with  fuperior  fweetnefs  fings 

Amid  thy  native  fkies ; 
XL 
Still  fliall  thy  lofty  numbers  flow, 

Melodious  and  divine  ; 
And  choirs  above,  and  faints  below, 

A  dealhlefs  chorus  join. 

XIL- 
To  our  far   fhores  the. found  fhall  roll, 

(So  Philomela  fung) 
And  eaft  tn  weft,  and  pole  to  pole, 

Th'etcinal  tune,  prolong. 


M.    BTLES- 


New-England,  . 
Bo/fan,  March  15,   17271 


-  — *_ 


TO   MR.  I.  WATTS.  XXX1U 

T  O 

Mr.     I.     WATTS, 
ON  READING  HIS  HORjE  LYRICS 

HAIL,  heav'n-bornMufe  !  that,  with  celeftial  flame 
And  high  feraphic  numbers  durft  attempt 
To  gain  thy  native  Ikies.      No  common  theme 
Merits  thy  thought,  fclf-confcious  of  a  foul 
Superior,  though  on  earth  detain'd  a  while  ; 
Like  fome  propitious  angel  that's  defign'd . 
A  refident  in  this  inferior  orb, 
To  guide  the  wand'ring  fouls  to  heavenly  bliTs, 
Thou  feem'ft  ;  while  thou  their  cverlafling  fongs 
Haft  fung  to  mortal  ears,  and  down  to  earth 
Transferr'd  the  work  of  Heaven  :  with  thought  fublime, 
And  high  fonorous  words,  thoa  fweetly  fing'ft 
To  thy  immortal  lyre.      Amaz'd,  we  view 
The  tow'ring  height  ftupendous,  while  thou  foar'il 
Above  the  reach  of  vulgar  eyes  or  thought, 
Hymning  th'eternal  Father  ;    as  of  old 
When  firft  the  Almighty  from  the  dark  abyfs 
Of  everlafting  night  and  filcnce  call'd 
The  /hining  worlds  with  one  creating  word. 
And  rais'd  from  nothing  all  the  heav'nly  hofts, 
And  with  external  glories  fill'd  the  void, 
Harmonious  feraphs  tun'd  their  golden  harps, 
And,  with  their  cheerful  Hallelujahs,  blefs'd 
The  bounteous  Author  of  their  happinefs  ; 
From  orb  to  orb  th'alternate  mufic  rang, 
And  from  the  cry  ft  aL  arches  of  the  flcy 
Reach'd  our  then  glorious  world,  the  native  feat- 
Of  the  firft  happy  pair,  who  join'd  their  fongs 
To  the  loud  echoes  of  th'angelic  choirs, 
And  fill'd  with  blifsful  hymns  terreftrial  heaven, 
The  paradife  of  God,  where  all  delights 


.-.XXIV 


TO    MR.  I.  WATTS. 


Abounded,  and  the  pure  ambrofial  air,    ' 
Fann'd  by  mild  zephyrs,  breath'd  eternal  fvveets, 
Forbidding  death  and  forrow,  and  beftow'd 
FreJh.  heav'nly  bloom  and  gay  immortal  youth. 

Not  fo,  alas  !   the  vile  apoftate  race, 
"Who  in  mad  joys  their  brutal  hours  employ'd, 
A  {faulting  with  their  impious  blafphemies 
The  Pow'r  Supreme  that  gave  'em  life  and  breath  ;. 
Incarnate  fiends  !   outrageous,  they  defy'd 
Th'Eternal's  thunder,  and  almighty  wrath 
Fearlefs  provok'd,  which  all  the  other  devils 
Would  dread  to  meet  ;  rememb'ring  well  the  day 
When  driven  from  pine  immortal  feats  above, 
A  fiery  tempeft  hurl'd  'em  down  the  ikies, 
And  hung  upon  the  rear,  urging  their  fall 
To  the  dark,  deep,  unfathomable  gulph, 
Where,  bound  on  fulph'rous  lakes  to  growing  rocks 
With  adamantine  chains,  they  wail  their  woes, 
And  know  Jehovah  great  as  well  as  good. 
And,  fix'd  for  ever  by  eternal  fate, 
With  horror  find  his  arm  omnipotent.  , 

Prodigious  madnefs  !    that   the  facred  Mufe, 
Firfl  taught  in  Heaven  to  mount  immortal  heights^ 
And  trace  the  boundlefs  glories  of  the  iky, 
Should  now  to  every  idol  bafcly  bow, 
And  curfe  the  Deity  {he  once  ador'd, 
Erecting  trophies  to  each  fordid  vice, 
And  celebrating  the  infernal  praife 
Of  haughty  Lucifer,  the  defperate  foe 
Of  God  and  man,  and  winning  ev'ry  hour 
New  votaries  to  hell,  while  all  the  fiends 
Hear  thefe  accurfed  lays,  and,  thus  outdone, 
Raging,  they  try  to  match  the  human  race,    , 
Redoubling  all  their  hellifh  blafphemies, 
And  with  loud  curfes  rend  the  gloomy  vault» 


-*-•- 


TO    MR.  I.  WATTS.  XXXV 

Ungrateful  mortals !  ah  !  too  late  you'll  find 
What  'tis  to  banter  Heaven  and  laugh  at  hell  j 
To  drefs  up  vice  in  falfe  delufive  charms, 
And  with  gay  colours  paint  her  hideous  face, 
Leading  befotted  fouls  through  flow'ry  paths. 
In  gaudy  dreams  and  vain  fantaftic  joys, 
To  difmal  fcenes  of  everiafting  woe  ; 
When  the  great  Judge  fhall  rear  his  awful  throne, 
And  raging  flames  furround  the  trembling  globe, 
While  the  loud  thunders  roar  from  pole  to  pole, 
And  the  laft  trump  awakes  the  fleeping  dead  ; 
And  guilty  fouls  to  ghaflly  bodies  driven, 
Within  thofe  dire  eternal  prifons  (hut, 
Expect  their  fad  inexorable  doom. 
Say  now,  ye  men  of  wit  !   what  turn  of  thought 
Will  pleafe  you  then  !  alas  !   how  dull  and  poor, 
E'en  to  yourfelves,  will  your  lewd  flights  appear  I 
How  will  you  envy  then  the  happy  fate 
Of  idiots.      And  perhaps,  in  vain  you'll  with 
You'd  been  as  very  fools  as  once  you  thought 
Others,  for  the  fublimeft  wifdom  fcorn'd  ; 
When  pointed  lightnings  from  the  wrathful  Judge 
Shall  finge  your  laurels,  and  the  men, 
Who  thought  they  flew  fo  high,  fhall  fall  fo  low. 

No  more,  my  Mufe,  of  that  tremendous  thought  ! 
Refume  thy  more  delightful  theme,  and  fing 
Th'immortal  man,  that  with  immortal  verfe 
Rivals  the  hymns  of  angels,  and,  like  them, 
Defpifes  mortal  critics'  idle  rules  : 
While  the  celeftial  flame  that  warms  thy  foul 
Infpires  us,  and  with  holy  tranfports  moves 
Our  labouring  minds,  and  nobler  fcenes  prefents 
Than  all  the  Pagan  poets  ever  fang, 
Homer  or  Virgil  ;  and  far  fweeter  notes 
Than  Horace  ever  taught  his  founding  lyre  ; 
And  purer  far,  though  Martial's  felf  might  feem 
A  modeft;  poet  in  our  Chriflian  days. 


XXXVI 


TO    MR.   I.    WATTS. 


May  thofe  forgotten  and  negle&ed  lie, 

No  more  let  men  be  fond  of  fab'ious  gods, 

Nor  heathen  wit  debauch  one  Chriltiau  line, 

While  with  the  coarfe  and  daubing  paint  we  hide 

The  mining  beauties  of  eternal  truth, 

That  in  her  native  drefs  appears  molt  bright, 

And  charms  the  eyes  of  angels. —  Oh  !   like  thee, 

Let  every  nobler  genius  tune  his  voice 

To  fubje&s  worthy  of  their  tow'ring  thoughts. 

Let  HEAVEN  and  Anna  then  your  tuneful  art 

Improve,  and   confecrate  your  deathlefs  lays 

To  HIM  who  reigns  above,  and  Her  who  rules  below. 

April  17,  1706. 

JOSEPH  STJNDEN. 


T  O 

Mr.      WATTS, 
ON   HIS    DIVINE   POEMS. 

AY,  human  feraph,  whence  that  charming  force, 
_l  That  flame  !  that  foul  !  which  animates  each  line  ; 
And  how  it   runs  with  fuch  a  graceful  eafc, 
Loaded  with  poud'rous  fenfe  !    fay,  did  not  he, 
The  lovely  Jefus,  who  commands  thy  breatt, 
Infpire  thee  with  himfelf  ?  With  Jefus  dwells, 
Knit  in  myfterious  bands,  the  Paraclete, 
The  breath  of  God,  the  everlalting  fource 
Of  love  :   And   what  is  love  in  fouls  like  thine, 
But  air  and  incenfe.to  the  poet's  fire  ? 
Should  an  expiring  faint,  whofe  fwimming  eyes 
Mingle  the  images  of  things  about  him, 
But  hear  the  leall  exalted  of  thy  llrains, 
How  greedily  he'd  drink  the  mufic  in, 
Thinking  his  heaVnly  convoy  waited  near  ! 


TO    MR.    I.  WATTS.  XXXV1J 

So  great  a  ftrefs  of  powerful  harmony 

Nature,  unable  longer  to  fuflain, 

Would  fink,  opprefs'd  with  joy,  to  cndlefs  reft. 

Let  none  henceforth  of  providence  complain, 
As  if  the  world  of  fpirits  lay  unknown, 
Fenc'd  round  with  black  impenetrable  night. 
Whai  tho'  no  mining  angel  darts  from  thence, 
With  leave  to  publilli  things  conceal'd  from  fenfe, 
In  language  bright  as  theirs,  we  are  here  told, 
When  life  its  narrow  round  of  years  hath  roll'd, 
What  'tis  employs  the  Blefs'd,  what  makes  their  blifs  ; 
Songs  fuch  as  Watts's  are,  and  love  like  his. 

But  then,  dear  Sir,  be  cautious  how  you  ufe, 
To  tranfports  fo  intenfely  rais'd,  your  Mufe, 
Left,  while  th=  ecftatic  impulfe  you  obey, 
The  foul  leap  out  and  drop  the  meaner  clay. 

Sept.  4,  1706. 

HENRY  GROVE. 


T  o 
Dr.     WATTS, 

ON    THE    FIFTH    EDITION    OF    HI3 

HORiE     LYRICS 

SOVEREIGN  of  Sacred  Verfe,  accept  the  lays 
Of  a  young  bard  that  dares  attempt  thy  praife. 
A  Mufe  the  meaneft  of  the  vocal  throng, 
New  tc  the  bays,  nor  equal  to  the  fong, 
Fir'd  with  the  growing  glories  of  thy  fame, 
Joins  all  her  pow'rs  to  celebrate  thy  name. 

No  vulgar  themes  thy  pious  Mufe  engage  ; 
No  fcencs  of  ltift  pollute  thy  facred  page  : 


XXXV111  TO    MR.   I.  WATTS. 

You  in  majeftic  numbers  mount  the  fkic«, 
And  meet  defeending  angels  as  you  rife, 
Whofejuft  applaufes  charm  the  crowded  groves, 
And  Addison  thy  tuneful  fong  approves. 
Soft  harmony  and  manly  vigour  join  ~\ 

To  form  the  beauties  of  each  fprightly  line  ;  N 

For  every  grace  of  every  mufe  is  thine.  j 

Milton,  immortal  bard,  divinely  bright, 
Conducts  his  fav'rite  to  the  realms  of  light  ; 
Where  Raphael's  lyre  charms  the  celeltial  throng, 
Delighted  cherubs  lift'ning  tc  the  fong  : 
From  blifs  to  blifs  the  happy  beings  rove, 
And  tafte  the  fvveet  of  mufic  and  of  love. 
But,  when  the  fofter  fcenes  of  life  you  paint, 
And  join  the  beauteous  virgin  to  the  faint; 
When  you  defcribe  how  few  the  happy  pairs, 
Whofe  hearts  united,  foften  all  their  cares  ; 
We  fee  to  whom  the  fweetefl;  joys  belong, 
And  Mvra's  beauties  confecrate  your  fong. 
Fain  the  unnumber'd  graces  I  would  tell, 
And  on  the  pleafing  theme  forever  dwell  : 
But  the  Mufe  faints,  unequal  to  the  flight, 
And  hears  thy  drains  with  wonder  and  delight.    . 
When  tombs  of  princes  (hall  in  ruins  lie, 
And  all,  but  heav'n.born  Piety,  (hall  die  ; 
When  the  lad  trumpet  wakes  the  lilent  dead, 
And  each  lafcivious  poet  hides  his  head, 
With  thee  fhall  thy  divine  Urania  rife, 
Crown'd  with  frefh  laurels  to  thy  native  ikies  : 
Great  Howe  and  Gouge  (hall  hail  thee  on  thy  way, 
And  welcome  thee  to  the  bright  realms  of  day  ; 
Adapt  thy  tuneful  notes  to  heav'nly  firings, 
And  join  the  Lyric  Ode  while  fome  fair  feraph  fings  ! 
Sic  fpitat,  fie  optat, 
Tui  amantiflimus 

BRIT4NNICUS. 


HOR^    LYRICiE. 


BOOK     I. 
Sacred  to  DEVOTION  and  PIETY. 


WORSHIPPING     WITH      FEAR. 

I. 

WHO  dares  attempt  th'eternal  name 
With  notes  of  mortal  found  i 
Dangers  and  glories  guard  the  theme, 
And  fpread  defpair  around. 

II. 

Deflru&ion  waits  t'obey  his  frown, 
And  heav'n    attends  his  fmile  : 

A  wreath  of  lightning  arms  his  crown» 
But  love  adorns  it  ftill. 

III. 

Celeftial  King,  our  fpirits  lie 

Trembling  beneath  thy  fret, 
And   wifli,    and  call   a  longing  eye, 

To  reach  thy  lofty  feat. 
B 


LYRIC   POEMS,        Book], 
iv.    J 

When  fhall  we  fee  the   great  Unknown, 

And  in    thy  prefence    Hand  ? 
Reveal  the  fplendors  of  thy  throne, 

But  fliield  us  with  thy   hand. 

V. 

In  Thee  what  endlefs  wonders  meet  ! 

What  various  glory  mines  ! 
The   croffing  rays  too  fiercely    beat 

Upon  our   fainting   minds. 

vr. 

Angels  are  loft  in  fweet  furprife 

If  thou  unveil  thy   grace, 
.And  humble  awe  runs  through  the   fides 

When  wrath  arrays  thy  face. 

VII. 

When  mercy  joins  with  majefly 

To  fpread  their  beams    abroad, 
Not  all  their  faireft   minds   on    high 

Are  fhadows  of  a  God. 

VIII. 

Thy  works  the  ftrongeft   feraph  fings 

In  a  too  feeble    drain, 
And  labours  hard  on  all  his  firings 

To  reach  thy  thoughts   in  vain. 

IX. 

Created  pow'rs  how  weak  they  be  ! 

How  fhort  our  praifes  fall  ! 
So  much  a- kin  to  nothing  we, 

And  thou  th'Eternal  All. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C. 


ASKING      LEAVE      TO      SING. 

I. 

YE  T,   mighty  GOD,  indulge  rqy  tongue, 
Nor  let    thy  thunders    roar, 
Whilft  the  young  notes    and  vent'rous  fong 
To  worlds  of  glory  foar. 

II. 

If  thou  my  daring  flight   forbid, 

The    mufe    folds  up  her  wings  : 
Or,  at  thy  word,  her  (lender  reed 

Attempts  almighty   things. 

III. 
Her  {lender  reed,   infpir'd  by  thee, 

Bids  a  new  Eden  grow, 
With  blooming  life  on  ev'ry  tree, 

And   fpreads  a  heav'n  below. 

IV. 

She  mocks  the  trumpet's  loud  alarms, 
Fill'd    with  thy   dreadful    breath  ; 

And  caHs  th'angelic  hofts  to  arms, 
To  give  the   nations    death. 

V. 

But,  when  fhe  taftes  her  Saviour's  love, 

And  feels  the  rapture  ftrong, 
Scarce    the     divineil    harp    above 

Aitris  at  a  fweeter  fong. 


4        LTRlCPOEMSy        Book  I. 


N 


DIVINE      JU  DGMENTS, 

I. 

O  T  from  the  duft  my  forrows  fpriog, 


Nor  drop  my  comforts  from  the  lower  ikies  ; 
Let  all  the  baneful  planets  fhed 
Their  mingled  curfes  on   my  head  ; 
How  vain  their  curfes,  if  th'eternal  King 
liook  through  the  clouds  and  blefs  me  with  his  eyes. 
Creatures,  with  all  their  boaftcd  fway, 
Are  but  his  flaves,  and   moft   obey  j 
They  wait  their  orders  from  above, 
And  execute  his  word,   the  vengeance  or  the  love. 

II. 

'Tis  by  a  warrant  from   his  hand 

The  gentler  gales  are  bound    to  fleep  ; 
The  north  wind  bluflers,  and  affumes  command 

Over  the  defert  and  the  deep  ; 

Old  Boreas,  with  his  freezing  pow'rs, 
Turns  the  earth  iron,  makes  the  ocean   glafs, 
Arrefts  the  dancing  riv'lets  as  they  pafs, 

And  chains  them  movelefs  to  their  fhores  ; 
The  grazing  ox  lows  to  the  gelid    /kies, 
Walks  o'er  the  marble   meads  with  withering  eyes, 
Walks  o'er  the  folid  lakes,  fnuffs  up  the  wind,  and  dies, 

III. 

Fly  to  the  polar  world,  my  fong, 
And   mourn  the  pilgrims  there   (a  wretched  throng  !) 

Seized  and  bound   in  rigid  chains, 
A  troop    of  ftatues  on  the  Ruffian  plains, 
And  life  ftands   frozen   in    the  purple  veins. 

Atheift,  forbear  ;  no  more   blafpheme  : 
God  has  a  thoufand  terrors  in  his  name  ; 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  5 

A  thoufand  armies  at   command, 

Waiting    the    fignal   of    his   hand, 
And  magazines  of  froll  and  magazines  of  flame. 

Drefs  thee  in  ftecl  to  meet  his  wrath  ; 

His  (harp  artillery  from  the  north 
Shall  pierce  thee  to  the  foul, and  (hake  thy  mortal  frame 

Sublime  on   winter's  rugged  wings 

He  1  ides  inarms   along  the  fky, 
And  fcatters  fate  on    fwains  and  kings  ; 

And  flocks,  and    herds,  and   nations,  die  j 

While  impious  lips,   profanely   bold, 
Grow  pale,  and,  qniv'ring  at  his  dreadful  cold, 

Give  their  own  blafphemies  the  lie. 
IV. 

The  mifchiefs  that  infeft  the   earth 
When  the  hot  dog-ftar  fires  the  realms    on  high^ 

Drought  and  difeafe,  and  cruel  dearthj 
Are  but  the  flafhes  of  a  wrathful   eye 

From    the  incens'd  Divinity. 

In  vain    our  parching  palates  third  ; 
For   vital  food  in   vain  we  cry, 

And  pant  for  vital   breath  ; 

The  verdant  fields  are  burnt  to   dud, 

The  fun  has  drunk  the  channels  dry, 
And  all  the  air  is  death. 

Ye  fcourges  of  our  Maker's  rod, 
JTis  at  his  dread  command,  at  his  imperial  nodj 

You  deal   your  various  plagues  abroad. 
V. 

Hail,  whirlwinds,  hurricanes,  and  floods, 

That  all  the  leafy  ftandards  ftrip, 

And  bear  down  with  a    mighty    fweep 
The  riches  of  the  field  and  honours  of  the    woods  ; 

Storms  that    ravage  o'er  the    deep, 
And  bury  millions  in  the  waves  ; 

Earthquakes,  that,  in  midnight  fleep3 


6        LTRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 

Turn  cities  into  heaps,  and  make  our  beds  our  graves : 

While  you  difpenfe  your   mortal   harms, 
*Tis  the  Creator's  voice  that  founds  your  loud   alarms, 
When  guilt  with  louder  cries  provokes  a  God  to  arms  I 

VI. 

O  for  a  meffage    from    above, 

To   bear    my    fpirits  up  ! 
Some  pledge   of    my  Creator's  love, 
To  calm  my  terrors  and  fupport  my  hope  1 

Let  waves  and  thunders  mix   and  roar  ; 
Be  thou  my  God,  and  the  whole  world  is  mine  » 
While  thou  art  Sov'reign   I'm,  fecure  ; 
I  fliall  be  rich  till  thou  art  poor  ;  [thine  I 

For  all  I  fear,  and  all  I  wifh,  heav'n,  earth,  and  hell,  are 


EARTH      AND      HEAVEN. 

L 

AST  thou  not  feen,  impatient  boy, 
Haft  thou  not  read,  the  folemn  truth; 
That  grey  experience  writes  for  giddy  youth 
On    ev'ry  mortal  joy  ? 
Pleafure  mujl  be  dajtid  with  pain  ; 
And  yet,  with  heedltfs  hafte, 
The  thirfty   boy   repeats  the  taftr, 
Nor  hearkens  to  defpair,  but  tries  the  bowl  again. 
The  rills  of  pleafure  never  run  fincere  : 
(Earth  has   no  unpolluted  fpring) 
From  the   curs'd  foil  fome  dang'rous   taint  they  bear 
So  rofes  grow  on  thorns,  and  honey  wears  a  fting. 

II. 

In  vain  we  feck  a  heav'n  below  the  fky  : 
The  world  has  falfe,  but  flatt'ring  charms  ; 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTIOK,    &C. 

Its  diftant  joys  (hew  big  in  our  efteem, 
But  lcflei)  It  ill  as  they  draw  near  the  eye. 

In  our  embrace  the  vifions  die  ; 

And,  when  we  grafp  the  airy  forms^ 
We  lofe  the  pleaGng  dream, 

III. 

Earth,  with  her  fcenes   of  gay  delight, 

Is  but  a  landfcape  rudely   drawn, 

With  glaring  colours  and  falfe  light  ; 

Diftance  commends  it  to  the  fight, 
For  fools  to  gaze  upon  ; 

But,  bring  the  naufeous  daubing  nigh, 
Coarfe  and  confus'd    the  hideous  figures  lie  j 
Difiblve  the  pleafure  and  offend  the   eye. 

IV. 
Look  up,  my  foul  ;   pant  t'ward  th'eternal  hills  I 

Thole  heav'ns  are  fairer  than  they    feem  ; 
There  pleafures  all  fiucere  glide  on  in  cryftal  rills; 
There  not  a  dreg  of  guilt    defiles, 
Nor   grief  diilurbs,   the  (Ircam. 
That  Canaan  knows  no  noxious  thing, 
No  curfed  foil,   no  tainted   fpring, 
Nor  rofes  grow  on  thorns,   nor  honey   wears  a  fling. 


FELICITY       ABOVE, 

I. 

NO,  }tl»  in  vain  to  feek  for  blifs 
For  blifs  can    ne'er  be  found 
Till  we  arrive  where  Jesus  is, 
And  tread  on   heav'nly  ground. 


J 


&        LYRIC    POEMS,         Book  I. 
II. 

There's  nothing  round  thefe  painted  flcies, 

Or  round    this  dully   clod  ; 
Nothing,  my  foul,    that's  worth  thy  joys, 

Or  lovely  as  thy  God. 

III. 

'Tis  rfeav'n  on  earth  to  tafte  his  love, 

To  ftel  his  quick'ning  grace  ; 
And    all    the  heav'n  I  hope  above 

Is  but  to  fee  his  face. 

IV. 

Why  more  my  years  in  flow  delay  ? 

O  God  of  ages  !   why  ? 
Let  the  fphere  cleave,    and    mark  my  wa/ 

To   the    fuperior  fky. 

V. 

Dear  Sov'refgn,  break  thefe  vital  firings . 

That  bind    me  to  my  clay  ; 
Take  me,   Uriel,  on  thy  \ving3., 

And  ftretch  and  foar  away. 


GOD.  S    DOMINION    AND    DECREES, 


KEEP  ftlence,  all  created  things, 
And  wait    your  Maker's  nod  ; 
The  mufe   (lands  trembling  while  fhe  fings 
The   honours   of  her  God. 

II. 

Life,  death,  and  hell,  and  worlds  unknown. 

Hang  on  his  firm  decree  : 
He  fits    on  no    precarious    throne, 

Nor  borrows  leave  to  be. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C. 

III. 

Th'Almighty    voice  bade  ancient  Night 

Her  endlcfs  realms  refign  ; 
And,  lo,  ten  thoufand  globes   of   light 

In  fields  of   azure  fhine. 
IV. 
Now  wifdom,  with  ftiperior  fivay, 

Guides  the   vaft    moving   frame* 
Whilft  all  the  ranks   of  beings  pay 

Deep  rev'rence  to  his    name. 
V. 
He  fpake  :     the  fun  obedient  flood, 

And  held  the  falling  day  : 
Old  Jordan  backward  drives   his  flood. 

And  difappoints  the  fea. 

VI. 

Lord  of  the  armies  of  the  fky, 

He   marfhals  all  the  flars  : 
Red  comets  lift  their  banners  highj 

And  wide  proclaim  his  wars.. 
VII. 
Chain'd  to  the  throne,   a  volume  lies, 

With  all  the  fates  of  men  ; 
With  ev'ry  angel's  form  and  fize, 

Drawn  by  th'eternal  pen. 

VIII. 

His  providence  unfolds  the   bonk, 
And  makes  hk   counfels  fhine  : 

Each  op'ning  leaf,   and  ev'ry   ftroke, 
Fulfils  fome  deep  dttign. 

IX. 

Here  he   exalts   negle&ed    worms 

To  fceptres  and  a  crown  ; 
Anon  the  following  page  he  turns, 

And  treads  the  monarch   down, 


. 


jo       L  TRIC    P  0  E  M  S9        Book  I. 
X. 

Not  Gabriel  afks  the  reafon  why, 
Nor  God  the  reafon  gives  ; 

Nor  dares  the  fav'rite  angel  pry- 
Between  the~  folded  leaves. 

XL 
My  God,  I  never  long'd  to  fee 

My  fate  with  curious  eyes  ; 
What  gloomy  lines  are  writ  for  me, 

Or  what  bright  fcenes  ftiall   rife. 

XII. 
In  thy  fair  book  of  life  and  grace, 

.  May  I  but  find  my   name 
Recorded  in  fome  humble    place, 
Beneath  my  Lord,  the  lamb  ! 


SELF-CONSECRATION. 

I. 

T  grieves  me,  Lord,  it  grieves  me  fore, 

That  I  have  liv'd  to  thee  no  more, 
And  wafted   half  my    days  ; 

My  inward  povv'rs  fhall  burn  and    flame 
With  zeal  and  paffion  for  thy  name:  [praife, 

I  would  not  fpeak  but  for  my  God,  nor  move  but  to  his 

II. 

What  are  my  eyes,   but  aids  to  fee 
The  glories  of  the  Deity 

Infcrib'd  wich  beams  of   light 
On  flow'rs  and   liars  i     Lord,  I  behold 
The  fhining  azure,  green,  and  gold  ;  [fight. 

But  when  I  try  to  read  thy  name,  a  dimnefs  veils  my 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTIONj    &C.  12 

in. 

Mine  ears  are  rais'd  when  Virgil  fings 
Sicilian  fwains  or  Trojan  kings, 

And   drink  the   mufick   in  : 
Why  fhould  the  trumpet's  brazen  voice, 
Or  oaten  reed,  awake   my  joys,  L~DeS'n  ? 

And   yet  my   heart  fo  flupid  lie   when    facred   hymns 
IV. 
Change  me,_0  God  ;   my  flefh  fhall  be 
An  inftrument  -of  fong  to  thee, 
And  thou  the  notes  infpire  : 
My  tongue  fhall  keep  the  heav'nly  chime, 
.  cheerful  pulfe  fhall    beat  the    time, 
And  fweet  variety  of  found  fhall  in  thy  praife  confpire. 
V. 
The  deareft  nerve  about  my   heart, 
Should  it  refufe  to  bear  a  part 
With  my  melodious  breath, 
I'd  tear  away    the    vital    chord, 
A  bloody  victim    to    my  Lord,  [in  death. 

And  live  without  that  impious  firing,  or  fhevv  my  zeal 


THE  CREATOR  AND  CREATURES. 

I. 

GOD  is  a  name  my   foul   adore?, 
Th'  Almighty  Three,  th'ETERNAt.  One  ; 
Nature  and  Grace,  with  all  their  pow'rs, 
Confefs  the  infinite  Unknown. 

II. 
From  thy  great  ftlf  thy  being  fprings  ; 
Thou  art  thy  own    original, 
Made    up    of  uncreated  things. 
And  felf-fufikience  bears  them  all. 


12       LYRIC   POEMS,       BookL 
III. 

Thy  voice  produc'd  the  feas  and  fpheres  ; 
Bid  the  waves  roar  and  planets  mine  j 
But  nothing  like  thyfelf  appears, 
Through  all  thefe  fpacious  works  of  thine. 

IV. 

Still  reftlefs  nature  dies  and  grows  ; 
From  change  to  change  the  creatures  run  i 
Thy  being  no   fucceflion  knows, 
And  all  thy  vaft  defigns  are  one. 

V. 

A  glance  of  thine  runs  through  the  globes, 
Rules  the  bright  world, and  moves  their  frame  : 
Broad  meets  of  light  compofe  thy  robed; 
Thy  guards  are  form'd  of  living  flame. 

VI. 

Thrones  and  dominions  round  thee   fall, 
And  worfhip  in  fubmiflive    forms  ; 
Thy  prefence  (hakes  this  lower  ball, 
This  little  dwelling-place  of  worms. 

VII. 

How  fhall  affrighted   mortals    dare 
To  fing  thy  glory  or  thy  grace  ? 
Beneath  thy  feet  we  lie  fo  far, 
I  And  fee  but  /hadows  of  thy  face. 

VIII. 
Who  can  behold  the  blazing  light  ? 
Who  can  approach  confuming  flame  ? 
None  but  thy  wifdom  knows  thy  might  ; 
None  but  thy  word  can  fpeak  thy  name. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION7,    <N1C.  I  3 


THE     NATIVITY     OF     CHRIST. 

I. 

SHEPHERDS,  rejoice  !  lift  up  your  eyes, 
"  And  fend  your  fears   away  : 
•'«  News  from  the  region  of  the  ikies  ! 
••  Salvation's  born  to-day  ! 

II. 

•''  JESUS,  the  God  whom  angels  fear, 
"  Comes  down  to  dwell   with  you  ; 

*'  To-day  he  makes  his  entrance  here, 
M  But  not  as  monarchs  do. 

III. 
w  No  gold,   nor  purple  fwaddling  bands, 

"  Nor  royal  fhining  things  : 
11  A  -manger  for  his  cradle   (lands, 

"  And  holds  the  King  of  kings. 

IV. 

u  Go,  fhepherds,  where  the  infant  lies, 

"  And  fee  his  humble  throne  ; 
"  With  tears  of  joy  in  all  your  eyes, 

rt  Go,  fhepherds,  kifs  the  Son." 

V. 

Thus  Gabriel  fang,  and  rtrait  around 

The  heav'nly  armies  throng  ; 
They   tune  their  harps  to  lofty  found, 

And  thus  conclude  the  fong  : 

VI. 
"  Glory  to  God  that  reigns  above  ; 
M  Let  peace  furround  the    earth  : 
"  Mortals  (hall  know  their  Maker's  love 
"  At  their  Redeemer's  birth." 
C 


i4       LYRIC    POEMS,        Book  I. 

VII. 

Lord  !   and  lhall  angels  have  their   fongs, 

And  men  no  tunes  to  raife  ? 
O  may  we  lofe  thefe  ufelefs  tongues 

When  they  forget   to  praiie  ! 

VIII. 

Glory  to  God  that  reigns   above, 

That  pity'd   us  forlorn  : 
We  join  to  fing  our  Maker's   love  ; 

For  there's  a  Saviour  born. 


GOD    GLORIOUS    AND    SINNERS    SAVED, 

I. 

FATHER,  how   wide  thy  glory  mines  ! 
How  high  thy  wonders  rife  ! 
Known  through  the  earth  by  thoufand  figns  ; 
By  thoufands  through  the  fkies. 

II. 

Thofe   mighty  orbs  proclaim  thy   pow'r  j 

Their  motions  fpeak  thy  fkill, 
And  on  the  wings    of  ev'ry  hour 

We    read  thy  patience    ftill. 

III. 

Part  of  thy  name  divinely  ftands 

On  all  thy  creatures   writ  ; 
They  fhew  the  labour  of  thine   hands, 

Or   imprefs  of  thy  feet. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  1$ 

IV. 

B'.it,  when  we    view  thy  ftrangc  defign 

To   fave    rebellious  worms, 
Where  vengeance  and  companion  join 

In  their  divinell   forms, 

V. 

Our  thoughts   are    loft  in   rev'rend    awe  ; 

We  love  and  we    adore. 
The  firft  archangel    never   faw 

So  much  of  Goj  before. 

VI. 
Here  the    whole  Deity  is  known  ; 

Nor  dares   a   creature    guefs 
Which   of  the   glories  brighteft    fhone, 

The   juftice   or   the   grace. 

VII. 

When  finners   broke  the  Father's    laws, 

The    dying  Son  atones  ! 
Oh  !   the  dear  myft'ries  of  his  crofs  ! 

The  triumph  of  his  groans  ! 

VIII. 

Now  the  full  glories  of  the  Lamb 

Adorn   the  heav'nly  plains  ; 
Sweet  cherubs  learn  Immaxuel's  name, 

And  try  their  choiceft  ilrains. 

IX. 
O   may  I  bear  fome   humble  part 

In    that    immortal    fong  ! 
Wonder  and  joys  lhall  tune  my  heart; 

And  love  command   my  tongue. 


16        LTRIC    POEMS,        Book  I. 


THE      HUMBLE      I  N  QJU  I  R  Y  : 
\      FRENCH      SONNET     IMITATED-  1 69 5 . 

Grand  Dicu,  tes  jugimenst  &c. 

I. 

GRACE  rules  below,   and   fits  enthron'd  above. 
How  few  the  fparks  of  wrath  !    how   flow    they 
And  drop  and  die  in  boundlcfs  feas  of  love  !       [move, 

II. 
But  me,  vile  wretch  !   (hould  pitying  love  embrace 
Deep  in  its  ocean,  hell  itfelf  would  blaze, 
And  flafh,  and  burn  me  through  the  boundlefs  feas. 

III. 
Yea,  Lord,  my  guilt,  to  fuch  a  vaftnefs  grown, 
Seems  to  confine  thy   choice  to  wrath    alone, 
And  calls  thy  pow'r  to  vindicate  thy  throne. 

IV. 
Thy  honour  bids  "  Avenge  thine  injur'd  name  ;" 
Thy  flighted   loves  a  dreadful  glory  claim  ; 
While  my  moid  tears  might  but  inceufe  thy  flame. 

Should  heav'n  grow  black,  almighty  thunder  roar, 
And  vengeance  blaft  me,   I  could  plead  no  more, 
But  own  thy  juilice  dying,  and  adore. 

VI. 

Yet  can  thofe  bolts,  of  death,  that  clc3ve  the  flood 
To  reach  a  rebel,   pierce  this   facred  fliroud, 
Ting'd  in  the  vital  ftrcara  of  my  Redeemer's  blood  ? 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    ScC.  1J 


THE     PEN' I  TENT     PARDONED, 

I. 

HENCE  from  my  foul,  my  fins,  depart  ; 
Your  fatal  friendship  now  I  fee  ; 
Long  have  you    dwelt  too  near  my   heart  j. 
Hence,  to  eteinal  diftance  flee. 

II. 
Ye  gave   my   dying  Lord  his  wound, 
Yet  1  cartfs'd  your   vip'rous  brood, 
And  in  my  heart- firings  lapp'd  you  round  ; 
You,    the  vile  murd'rers  of  my  God. 

III. 

Black  heavy  thoughts,  like  mountains,  roll 
O'er  my  poor   bread  with  boding  fears, 
And,  crufhing  hard  my  tortur'd   foul, 
Wring  through  my  eyes  the  briny  tears, 

IV. 

Forgive  my  treafons,   Prince  of  grace  ! 
The  bloody  Jews    were  traitors  too  ; 
Yet  thou  hail  pray'd  for  that   curs'd  race  : 
Father,  they    know  not  what  they  do  / 

V. 

Great  Advocate  !  look  down,  and  fee 
A  wretch  whofe  fmarting  forrows  bleed  ! 
O  plead  the  fame   excufe  for  me  ! 
For,  Lord,   I  knew  not  what  I  did. 

VI. 
Peace,   my  complaints  :    let  ev'ry  groan 
Be  ftill,  and  filence  wait  his  love  ; 
Companions  dwell  amidft  his  throne, 
And  through  his  inmoft  bowels  mov?. 
Cz 


$        L  i'RIQ   FO  EMS.        Book  S, 
VII. 

.Lo,   from  the  everlalling  flctea, 
Gently  as  morning   dews   diftii, 
The  dove  immortal  downward    flies, 
With  peaceful  olive  in  his  bill. 

VII  -I. 
How  fweet  the  voice  of  pardon  founds  t 
Sweet  the  relief  to  deep  dillrefs  '. 
I  feel  the  balm  that  heals   my  wounds  ; 
And  all  my  pow'is  adore  the  grace. 


A    HYMN    OF    PRAISE 
FOR    THREE    GREAT    SALVATIONS  J 
♦  viz. 

1.  From  the  Spani/Jj  Inveifon,    1588. 

2.  From  the  Gun -powder  Plot,  Nov.  5. 

3.  From  Popery  and  Slavery,   by  King  William* 
of  glorious  Memory,  who  landed  Nov.  5,  1 688. 

Compofed  Nov.  5,  1695. 

I. 

INFINITE  God  1   thy  counfels  ftand 
Like  mountains    of  eternal    brafs  ; 
Pillars  tQ  prop  our  finking   land, 
Or  guardian-rocks  to  break  the  feas. 

II. 
From  pole  to  pole  thy  name  is  known  ; 
Thee  a  whole  heav'n  of  angels  praift   ; 
Our  lab'ring  tongues  would  reach  thy  throne 
With  the  loud  triumphs  of  thy  grace. 

III. 
Part  of  thy  church,  by  thy  command, 
Stands  rais'd  upon  the  BrUHh  ifles  :. 
"Theft,"  faid  the  Lord,  m  to  ages  (land, 
"  Firm  as  the  evcrlafting  hills." 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  fejj 

IV. 

Iii  vain  the  Spanifh  ocean  roar'd  ; 
Its  billows   fwell'd  again  It  our  fliorc  : 
Its  billows  funk  beneath  thy    word, 
With  all  the   floating  war  they  bore. 

V. 

"  Come,"  faid  the  fons  of  bloody  Rome, 

(t  Let  us  provide  new  arms  from  hell  ;" 

And  down  they  digg'd  through  earth'*  dark  womb, 

And  ranfack'd  all  the  burning  cell. 

VI. 

Old  Satan  lent  them  fiery  ftores, 
Infernal  coal  and  fulph'rous  flame, 
And  all  that  burns  and  all  that  roars, 
Outrageous  fires  of  dreadful  name  ! 

VII. 
Beneath  the  fenatc  and  the  throne 
Engines  of  hellifh  thunder  lay  : 
There  the  dark  feeds  of  fire    were  Town? 
To  fpring  a  bright,  but  difmal,  day. 

VIII. 
Thy  love  beheld  the  black  dtfign  ; 
Thy  love,  that  guards  our   ifland   round  I 
Strange  !   how  it  quench'd  the  fiery  mine, 
And  crufh'd  the  tempeft  under  ground. 


THE    SECOND    PART. 

I. 

ASSUME,  my  tongue,  a  nobler  flrain. 
Sing  the  new  wonders  of  the  Lord  } 
The  foes  revive  their  pow'rs  again  ; 
Again  they,  die  beneath,  his  fword, 


•20         LTRIC   POEMS,      Book  I. 
ir. 

Dark  as  our  thoughts  our  minutes  roll, 

While  tyranny   po  fiefs  the   throne, 

And  murd'rers  of  an    Irifli   foul, 

Ran,  threat'ning  death  through  ev'ry  town. 

III. 
The  Roman  pried  and  Britidi  prince 
Join'd  their  bed  force  and  blacked   charms  ; 
And  the  fierce  troops  of  neighb'ring  France 
Offer'd  the  fervice  of  their  arms. 

IV. 

«*  'Tis  done,"  they  cry'd,  and  laugh'd  aloud  : 
The  courts  of  darknefs  rang  with  joy  ; 
Th'old  ferpent  hifs'd,  and  hell  grew  proud, 
While  Zion  mourn'd  her  ruin  nigh. 

V. 

But,  lo,  the  great  deliv'rer  fails, 
Commiffion'd  from  Jehovah's  hand  ; 
And  fmiling  feas  and  wifhing  gales 
Convey  him  to  the  longing  land. 

VI. 

The  happy  day  and  happy  year     1       Nov.  5, 
Both  in  our  new  falvation  meet  :      3       1688. 
Theday  that  quench'd  the  burning  fnare  ;  1  Nov. 5, 
The  year  that  burnt  th'mvading  fleet.     3    1588. 

VII. 
Now  did  thine  arm,  O  God  of  hods, 
Now  did  thine  arm  fhine  dazzling  bright  ! 
The  fons  of  might  their  hand6  had  loft, 
And  men  of  blood  forgot  to  fight. 

VIII. 

Brigades  of  angels   lin'd    the  way, 
And  guarded  William   to  his   throne  t 
There,  ye   celedial   warriors,   day, 
And  make  his  palace  like  your  own. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  QA 

IX. 

Then,  mighty  God,  the  earth  (lull  know, 
And  learn  the  worfhip  of  the  fky  : 
Angels  and  Britons  join   below 
To    raife   their   hallelujahs   high. 

X. 
All  hallelujahs,  heav'nly  King  ! 
While  dillant  lands  thy  vicVry  fing, 
And  tongues  their  utraoit  pow'rs  employ  ; 
The  world's  bright    roof  repeats  the  joy. 


THE    INCOMPREHENSIBLE. 

I. 

FA  R  in  the  heav'ns  my  God  retires, 
My   God,  the    mark    of  my  defires, 
And  hides    his   lovely  face. 

When  he   defcends  within  my  view, 
He  charms  my  reafon   to    purfue  ; 
But  leaves  it  tir'd  and  fainting  in    th'unequal  chacc. 

II. 
Or,  if  I  reach  nnufual   height, 

Til!  near  his  prefence  brought, 
There  floods  of  glory   check  my  flight, 
Cramp  the  bold  pinions  of  my  wit, 
And   all  untune   my  thought. 
Plung'd  in  a  fea  of  light   I  roll, 

Where  Wifdom,  Juftice,   Mercy,  fliines  : 
Infinite  rays,  in  crofling   lines,  [foul. 

Beat  thick  confufion  on  my  fight,  and  overwhelm  my. 
III. 
Come  to  my  aid,  ye  fellow-minds, 
And  help  me  reach  the  throne  ; 
(What  fingle  (Irength  in  vain  defigH6 
United  force  hath,  done  i. 


22        LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 

Thus  worms  may  join,  and  grafp  the  poles  ; 
Thus  atoms  fill  the  fea) 

But  the  whole  race  of  creature-fouls,   [loft  in  thee. 
Stretch'd  to  their  lad  extent  of  thought,  plunge  and  arc 
IV. 

Great  God,  behold,   my  reafon  lies 

Adoring,   yet  my  love  would  rife 
On    pinions  not    her   own. 

Faith  (hall  direct  her   humble  flight, 

Through  all  the  tracklefs  feas  of  light, 

To  Thee,  th'EternalFair,  the  Infinite  Unknown  t 


DEATH    AND    ETERNITY. 

I. 

'  Y  thoughts,  that  often  mount  the  ikies, 
Go  fearch  the  world  beneath, 
Where  nature  all   in  ruin  lies, 
And  owns  her  fov'reign,  Death. 
II. 
The  tyrant,  how  he  triumphs    here  I 

His  trophies  fpread  around  ! 
And  heaps  of  duft  and  bones  appear 
Through  all  the    hollow  ground. 

III. 

Thefe  fculls,  what  ghaftly  figures  now  ! 

How  loathfome  to  the   eyes  ! 
Thefe  are  the  heads  we  lately  knew 

So  beauteous  and  fo   wife. 
IV. 
But  where  the  fouls,  thofe  deathlefs  things, 

That  left    this  dying  clay  ? 
My  thoughts,  now  ftretch  out  all  your  \ving8> 

And    trace   eternity. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C. 

V. 

O  that  unfathomable  fea  ! 

Thofe  deeps  without   a  fliore  ! 
Where  living    waters  gently   play, 

Or  fiery  billows  roar. 

VI. 

.» 
Thus  mud  we  leave  the  banks  of  life, 

And  try  this    doubtful   fea  : 

Vain  are  our  groans  and  dying  ftrife 

To  gain  a  moment's,  flay. 

VII. 
There  we  (hall  fwim  in  heav'nly   blifs, 

Or  fink  in  flaming   waves, 
While  the  pale  carcafe  thoughtlefs  lies 

Amongft  the  filent  graves. 

VIII. 
Some  hearty  friend  fhall  drop  his  tear 

On  our  dry  bones,  and  fay, 
"  Thefe  once  were    ftrong,  as  mine  appear  ; 

"  And  mine  muft  be  as   they." 

IX. 
Thus  fhall  our  mould'ring  members  teach 

What,  now  our  fenfes  learn  : 
For  duft  and  afhes  loudeft   preach 

Man's  infinite  concern. 


A    SIGHT    OF    HEAVEN    IN    SICKNESS, 

I. 

OF  T  have  I  fat  in  fecret  fighs 
To   feel    my    fiefh    decay  ; 
Then  groan'd  aloud  with  frighted  eyes, 
To  view  the  tott'ring   clay. 


i+       LYRIC    POEMS,        Book  i, 
II. 

But  1  forbid  my  forrows  now, 

Nor  darts  the  flefh  complain  ; 
Difeafcs  bring  their  profits  too, 

The  joy  o'crcomes  the  pain. 

III. 

My  cheerful  foul  now  all  the   day 

Sits  waiting  here   and   fings  ; 
Looks  through  the  ruins  of   her  clay, 

And  piaftifes  her  wings. 

IV. 
Faith  almod  changes  into  fight, 

While  from  afar  fhe    fpfes 
Her  fair   inheritance  in  light 

Above  created  fkies. 

V. 

Had  but  the  prifon-walls  been  ftrong 

And  firm,  without  a  flaw, 
In  darknefs  fhe  had  dwelt  two  long 

And  lefs  of  glory  faw. 

VI. 
But  now  the  everlafting  hills 

Through  ev'ry  chink  appear  ; 
And  fomething  of  the  joy  fhe  feels 

While  fhe's  a  pris'tier  here. 

VII. 
The  fliines  of  heav'n  rufh  fvvectly  in 

At  all  the  gaping  flaws  ; 
Vifions  of  endlefs  blifs  are  feen, 

And  native  air  fhe  draws. 

VIII. 
O  may  thefe  walls  (land  tott'ring  dill, 

The  breaches  never  clofe, 
If  I  mull  here  in  darknefs  dwell, 

And  all  this  glory  !~re  ! 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  25 

IX. 

O  rather  let  this  fkfh  decay  ; 

The  ruins   wider  grow, 
Till,  glad  to  fee  th'enlarged   way, 

I  fli etch  my  pinions  through. 


THE    UNIVERSAL    HALLELUJAH. 
Pfalm   cxlviii.  paraphrased. 

I. 

PRAISE  ye  the  Lord  with  joyful  tongue, 
Ye  pow'rs  that  guard  his  throne  ; 
JESUS,  the  Man,  mall  lead  the  fong, 
The  God  infpire  the  tune. 

II. 

Gabriel,  and  all  th'immortal  choir 

That  fills  the  realms  above, 
Sing  ;   for  he  form'd  you  of  his  fire, 

And  feeds  you  with  his  love. 

III. 

Shine  to  his  praife,  ye  cryftal  Ikies, 

The  floor  of  his  abode  ; 
Or  veil  your  little  twinkling  eyes 

Before  a  brighter  GOD. 

IV. 

Thou  reftlefs   globe  of  golden  light, 

Whofe  beams  create  our  days, 
Join  with  the  filver  Queen  of  Night, 

To  own  your  borrow'd  rays. 

V. 

Blufh,  and  refund  the  honours  paid 

To  your  inferior  names  : 
Tell  the  blind  world  your  orbs  are  fed 

By  his  o'erflo^'ing  flames. 
D 


26        LTR1C    POEMS,        Book  I, 
VI. 

Winds,  ye  mail  bear  his  name  aloud 

Through  the   etherial   blue  ; 
For,   when  his  chariot  is  a   cloud, 

He  makes  his  wheels  of  you, 

VII. 
ThundTr  and  hail,  and  fires  and  ftorms, 

The  troops  of  his  command, 
Appear,  in  all  your  dreadful  forms, 

And  fpeak  his  awful   hand. 

VIII. 
Shout  to  the  Lord,  ye  forging  feas, 

In  your  eternal  roar  ; 
Let  wave  to  vvave  refound  his  praife, 

And  fhore  reply  to  fhor*  ; 

IX. 

While  monfters,  fporting  on  the  flood, 

In  fcaly  filver  fliine, 
Speak  terribly  their  Maker,   Gop,fe 

And  lafh  the   foaming  brine. 

X. 

But  gentler  things  fhall    tunc  his  name 

To  fofter  notes  than  thefe  ; 
Young  Zephyrs  breathing  o'er  the   ftream, 

Or  whifp'ring  through  the  trees. 

XI. 

Wave  your  tall  heads,  ye  lofty  pines, 

To  nim  that  bade  you  grow  ; 
Sweet  cinders  bend  the  fruitful    vines 

On  ev'ry  thankful   bough. 

XII. 

Let  the  flirill  birds  his  honour  raife, 

And  climb  the   morning  ficy  ; 
While  grov'ling  beafts  attempt  his  praife 

In  hoaifer  harmony. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C. 

XIII. 
Thi:3,  while  the  meaner  creatures  fing, 

Ye  mortals  take  the  found  ; 
Echo    the  glories  of  your  King 

Through  all  the  nations  round. 

XIV. 
Th'eternal   name  mud    fly  abroad 

From  Britain   to  Japan  ; 
And  the  whole  race  fhall  bow  to  God 

That  owns   the  name  of  Man. 


THE    ATHEISTS     MISTAKE, 

I. 

LAUGH,  ye  profane,  and  fvvell  and  buift 
With    bold    impiety  ; 
Yet  fhall  ye  live,  for  ever  curs'd, 
And  feek  in  vain  to  die. 

II. 

The  gafp  of  your  expiring  breath 

Configns  your  fouls  to  chains, 
By  the  laft  agonies   of  death 

Sent  down  to   fiercer  pains. 

III. 

Ye  ftand  upon  a  dreadful    fteep, 

And  all  beneath  is  hell  ; 
Your  weighty  guilt  will  fink  you  deep 

Where  the  old  ferpent  fell. 

IV. 

When  iron  (lumbers  bind  your  flelh, 
With  ftiange  furprife  you'll  find 

Immortal  vigour  fpring  afrefh, 
And  tortures  wake  ihe  mind  ! 


2$        LTRIC   POEMSy       Book  I. 
V. 

Then  you'll  confefs,  the  frightful  names 

Of  plagues,  you  fcorn'd  before, 
No  more  fhall  look  like  idle  dreams  ; 

Like  foolifh  tales  no  more. 

VI. 

Then  fhall  ye  curfe  that  fatal  day    i 
(With  flames  upon  your  tongues) 

When  you  exchanged  your  fouls  away 
For  vanity  and  fongs. 

VII. 
Behold,  the  faints  rejoice  to  die, 

For  heaven  mines  round  their  heads, 
And  angel-guards,  prepar'd  to  fly, 

Attend  their  fainting  beds. 

VIII. 

Their  longing  fpirits  part,  and  rife 

To  their  celeflial  feat  : 
Above  thefe    ruinable  fkies 

They  make  their  lad  retreat. 

IX. 

Hence,  ye  profane  !   I  hate  your  ways, 

I  walk  with  pious  fouls  ; 
There's  a  wide  diff'rence  in  our  race, 

And  diftant  are  our  goals. 


THE    LAW    GIVEN    AT    SINAI, 

I. 

ARM  thee  with  thunder,  heav'nly  mufe. 
And  keep  th'expc&ing  world  in  awe. 
Oft  haft  thou  fung,  in  gentler  mood, 
The  melting  mercies  of  thy  God  'r 
Now  give  thy  fierceft  fires  a  loofe, 
And  found  hi*  dreadful  law  ; 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  1<$ 

To  Ifr'el  firft  the  words  were  fpokc  ; 
To  Ifr'el,  freed  from  Egypt's  yoke. 
Inhuman  bondage  !    the  hard  galling  load 
Over-prefb'd  thtir  feeble  fouls, 
Bent  their  knees  to  fenfelefs  bulls, 
And  broke  their  ties  to  God. 

II. 

Now  had  they  pafs'd  th'Arabian  bay, 

And  march'd  between  the  cleaving  fea  :      [way  ; 
The  rifing  waves  ftood   guardians   of   their   wondrous 

But  fell  with  molt  impetuous  force 
On  the  purfuing  fwarms, 

And  bury'd  Egypt  all  in    arms, 
Blending  in  wat'ry  death  the  rider  and  the  horfe, 
O'er  ftruggling  Pharaoh  roll'd  the   mighty  tide, 
And  fav'd  the  labours  of  a  pyramid. 

Apis  and  Ore  in  vain  he  cries, 

And  all  his  horned  gods  befide  ; 

He  fwallows  fate  with  fwimming  eyes-j 

And  curs'd  the  Hebrews  as  he  dy'd. 

III. 

Ah,  foolim  Ifr'el  !   to  comply 
With  Memphian    idolatry, 
And  bow  to  brutes  (a  (lupid  flave) 
To  idols,  impotent  to  fave  ! 
Behold  thy  God,   the  Sovereign  of  the  fky, 
Has  wrought  falvation  in  the   deep  j 
Ha6  bound  thy  foes  in  iron  fleep, 
And  rais'd  thine  honours  high. 
His  grace  forgives  thy  follies  part. 
Behold  he  comes  in   majefly, 
And  Sinai's  top  proclaims  his  law. 
Prepare  to  meet   thy  God  in  hafte  5 
But  keep  an  awful  diftance  ftill  : 
Let  Mofes  round  the  facred  hill 
The    circling   limits  draw. 
E>2 


30       LTRIC   POEMS,       Book  I 
IV. 

Hark  !   the  fhrill  echoes  of  the  trumpet   roar, 
And  call  the  trembling  armies  near  ; 
Slow  and  unwilling  they  appear  j 
Rails  keep  them  from  the  mount  before, 
Now  from  the  rails  their  fear  : 

•"IVas  the  fame  herald,  and  the  trump  the  fame 
Which  fhall  be  blown  by  high   command, 
Shall  bid  the  wheels  of  nature  (land, 
And  heav'n's   eternal  will  proclaim, 
That   "  Time  fhall  be  no  more." 

V. 

Thus  while  the  labouring  angel  fwell'd  the  found. 
And  rent  the  fkies,  and  fhook  the  ground, 

Up  rofe  th' Almighty  ;  round  his  fapphirc  feat 
Adoring  thrones  in  order  fell  : 
The  leffer  pow'r6  at  distance  dw^ll, 

And  caft  their  glories  down  fuccefiive  at  his  feef. 
Gabriel  the  great  prepares  his   way  j 

et  Lift  up  your  heads,  eternal  doors,"  he  cries, 
Th'eternal  doors  his  word  obey, 
Open  and  fhoot   celeftial   day 

Upon    the    lower   fkies. 

Heaven's  mighty   pillars  bow'd  their  head, 
As  their  Creator  bade, 

And  down  Jehovah  rode  from  the  fuperior  fphere, 

A  thoufand  guards  before,  and  myriads  in  the  rear. 

VI. 

His  chariot- was  a  pitchy  cloud, 
The  wheels  befet  with  burning  gems  : 
The  winds  in  harnefs  with   the   flames 

Flew  o'er  th-e  ethereal  road  : 

Down  through  his  magazines  he  pafl 
Of  hail,  and  ice,  and  fleecy  fnow, 

Swift  roll'd  the  triumph,   and  as  fafl 
Did  hail  and  ice,  in  melted  rivers,  flow 


iACRE-D    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  1 

The  day  was  mingled  with  the  night, 
His  feet  on  folid  darknefs  trod, 
His  radiant   eyes  proclaim'd  the  Gov, 

And  fcatter'd  dreadful  light  ; 
He  breath'd,  and  fulphur  ran,  a  fiery  ftream  : 
He  fpoke,  and  (though  with  unknown  fpeed  he  came) 
Chid  the  flow  tempeft,  and  the  lagging  flame. 

VII. 

Sinai  receiv'd  his  glorious  flight, 
With  axle  red,  and  glowing  wheel, 

Did  the   winged    chariot   light, 
And  rifjng  fmoke  obfeur'd  the  burning  hill; 
Lo,  it  mounts  in  curling  waves  ! 
Lo,  the  gloomy  pride    out-brares 
The  (lately  pyramids  of  fire  ! 
The  pyramids  to  heav'n    afpire,  [higher, 

And  mix    with  ftars,   but    fee  their  gloomy   offspring 
So  have  you  feen  ungrateful  ivy  grow 
Round  the  tall  oak  that  fixfeore  years  has  flood, 

And  proudly  (hoot  a  leaf  or  two 
Above  its  kind  fupporter's  utmoft  bough, 
And  glory  there  to  ftand  the  loftieft  of  the  wood, 
VIII. 
Forbear,  young  mufe,  forbear  j 
The  flow'ry  things  that  poets  fay, 
The  little  art*  of  fimile, 

Are  vain  and  ufelefs  here  ; 
Nor  (hall  the  burning  hills  of  old 

With  Sinai   be  compar'd, 
Nor  all  that  lying  Greece  has  told, 
Or  learned  Rome  has   heard. 
_3£tna  (hall  be  nam'd  no  more,- 
JE'na,  the  torch  of  Sicily  ; 
Not    half  fo    high 
Her  lightnings  fly, 
Not  half  fo  loud  her  thunders  roar 
Crofs  the  Sicaniao  ft'a,  to  fright  the  Italian  frior?. 


j2       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 

Behold  the  facred  hill,  its  trembling  fpire 
Quakes  at  the   tenors   of  the    fire, 

While  all  below  its  verdant  feet 
Stagger  and  reel  under  th'aJmighty   weight  : 
Prefs'd  with  a  greater  than  ftign'd  Atlas'  load, 

Deep  groan'd  the  mount  ;  it  never  bore 

Infinity    before. 
It  bow'd,  and  fhook  beneath  the  burthen  of  a  God  I 

IX. 

Frefh  horrors  feize  the  camp  j  defpair, 

And  dying  groans,  torment  the  air, 

And  fhrieks,  and  fwoons,  and  deaths,  were  there  ; 

The  bellowing  thunder  and  the    lightning's  blaze 

Spread  through  the  hoft  a  wild  amaze  : 

Darknefs  on  ev'ry  foul,  and  pale  was  ev'ry  face  : 
Confus'd  and  difmal  were  the  cries, 
**  Let  Mofes  fpeak,  or  Ifr'el  dies  :" 
Mofes  the  fpreaJing  terror  feels, 
No  more  the  man  of  God    conceals 
His  fhivering  and  furprife  : 

Yet,    with  recovering  mind,   commands 

Silence,  and  deep  attention,  thro'  the  Hebrew  bands. 

X. 
Hark  !   from  the  centre  of  the   flame, 
All  arm'd  and  feather'd  with  the  fame, 

Majeftic  founds  break  through  the  fmoky  cloud  ; 
Sent  from  the  all-creating  tongue, 
A  flight  of  cherubs  guard    the  words  along, 

And  bear  their  fiery  law  to  the  rttreating  crowd  ! 

XL 

"  I  am  the  Lord  :    'tis  I  proclaim 
11  That  glorious  and  that  fearful  name, 
■'  Thy  God  and  King  :   'twas  I  that  broke 
"  Thy  bondage  and  th'Egyptian   yoke  ; 
"  Mine  is  the  right  to  fpeak  my  will, 
"  And  thine  the  duty  to  fulfil  : 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  JJ 

'•'  Adore  no  God  befide  me,  to  provoke  mine  eyes  ; 
"  Nor  woifhip  me  in  fh apes  and  forms  that  men  dtvife  ; 
••  With  rev'rence  ufe  my  name,  nor  turn  my  words  to 

"jeft; 
"  Obferve  my  Sabbath  well,  nor  dare  profane  my  reft  j 
"  Honour  and   due  obedience  to  thy  parents  give  ; 
M  Nor  fpill  theguiltlefs  blood,  nor  let  the  guilty  live  : 
"  Prcfervc  thy  body  chafte,  and  flee  th'unlav/ful  bed  ; 
"  Nor  fteal  thy  neighbour's  gold,    his  garment,  or  his 

"  bread  ; 
<'  Forbear  to  blaft  his  name  with  falfehood  or  deceit  ; 
"  Nor  let  thy  wifhes  loofe  upon  his  large  eftate." 


REMEMBER    YOUR    CREATOR,    &C. 

Ecclef.  xii. 

I. 

CHILDREN,  to  your  Creator,  God, 
Your  early  honours  pay, 
While  vanity  and  youthful  blood 
Would  tempt  your  thoughts  aftray. 

II. 

The  mem'ry  of  his  mighty  name 

Demands  your  firft  regard  ; 
Nor  dace  indulge  a  meaner  flame, 

Till  you  have  lov'd  the  Lord. 
III. 
Be  wife,  and  make  his  favour  fure, 

Before  the  mournful  days, 
When  youth  and  mirth  arc  known  no  more. 

And  life  and:  ftrength  decays. 
IV. 
No  more  the  bleffings  of  a  feaft 

Shall  relifh  on    the  tongue  ; 
The  heavy  ear  forgets  the   tafts 

And  pleafure  of  a  fong. 


34         LYRIC    POEMS,       Book  L 

V. 

Old  age,  with  all  her  difmal  train, 

Invades  your  golden  years 
With  fighs,  and  groans,  and  raging  pain, 

And  death  that   never    fpares. 

VI. 

What  will  you  do  when  light  departs, 

And  leaves  your  withering  eyes 
Without  one  beam  to  cheer  your  hearts 

From  the  fuperior  fkies  ? 

VII. 

How  will  you  meet  God's  frowning  brow. 

Or  (land  before    his   feat, 
While  nature's  old  fupporters  bow, 

Nor  bear  their  tott'ring  weight  ? 

VIII. 

Can  you  expect  your  feeble  arms 

Shall  make  a  ftrong  defence, 
When  death,  with  terrible  alarms, 

Summons  the  pris'ner  hence  ? 

IX. 

The  filver  bands  of  nature  burft, 

And  let  the  building  fall  ; 
The  flefh   goes  down  to  mix  with  duft,. 

Its  vile  original. 

X. 

Laden  with  guilt   (a  heavy  load) 

Uncleans'd  and  unforgiv'n, 
The  foul  returns  t'an  angry  Gor>, 

To  be  fliut  out  from  heav'n= 


3ACRED  TO  DEVOTION",  &C.      3$ 


SUN,  MOON,  AND  STARS,  PRAISE  YE 
THE  LORD. 

I. 

FAIREST  of  all   the  lights  above, 
Thou  fun,  whofe  beams  adorn  the  fpherts, 
And  with  unweary'd  fwiftnefs  move, 
To  form  the  circles  of  our  years  j 

II. 

Praife  the  Creator   of  the  fkies, 
That  drefs'd  thine  orb  in  golden   rays  : 
Or  may  the  fun  forget   to    rife, 
If  he  forget  Lis  Maker's  praife. 

III. 
Thou  reigning  beauty  of  the   night, 
Fair  Qjieen  of  Silence,    filver    moon, 
Whofe  gentle  beams  and  borrow'd  light 
Are  fofter    rivals  of  the  noon  ; 

IV. 
Arife,  and  to  that  Sov'reign  Pow'r 
Waxing  and  waning    honours   pay  ; 
Who  bade  thee  rule  the   dufky  hour, 
And  half  fupply  the  abfent  day. 

V. 
Ye  twinkling  (lars,  who  gild  the  fkies 
When  darknefs  has  its  curtains  drawn, 
._  Who  keep  your  watch  with  wakeful  eyes, 
When  bufinefs,  cares,  and  day,  are  gone, 

VI. 

Proclaim  the  glories  of  your  Lord, 
Difpers'd  through  all  the   hcav'nly  flreet, 
Whofe  boundlefs  treafures  can  afford 
So  rich  a  pavement  for  his  feet. 


J 


6       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  1. 

VII. 

Thou  hcav'n  of  heav'ns,  fuprcmely  bright, 
Fair  palace  of  the  court  divine, 
Where,  with    inimitable    light, 
The  Godhead  condescends  to  mine, 

VIII. 

Praife  thou  thy  Great   Inhabitant, 
Who  fcatters  lovely  beams  of  grace 
On  ev'ry  angel,   ev'ry  faint, 
Nor  veils  the  1  u  It  re  of  his  face. 

IX. 

O  God  of  glory,    God  of  love, 
Thou  ait  the  Sun  that  makes  our  days  : 
With  all  thy  mining  works    above, 
Let  earth  and  duft  attempt  thy  praife. 


THE    WELCOME    MESSENGER. 

I. 

LORD,   when  we  fee  a  faint  of  thine 
Lie  gafping  out  his  breath, 
With  longing  eyes,  and   looks  divine, 
Smiling  and  plcas'd  in  death  ; 

II. 

How  we  could  e'en  contend  to  lay 

Our  limbs  upon  that  bed  ! 
We  afk  thine  envoy  to  convey 

Our  fpirits  in   his  ftead. 

III. 

Our  fouls  are  rifing  on   the  wing, 

To  venture  in  his  place  ; 
For  when  grim  death  has  loft  his  fting( 

He  has  an  angel's  face. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION;,    &X.  37 

IV. 

JLius,  then  purge  my  Crimea  away, 

'Tis  guilt  creates  my  fears, 
;Tis  guilt  gives  death  its  fierce  array, 

And  all  the  arms  it  bears. 

V. 

Oh  !    if  my  threat'ning  fins  were  gone, 

And  death  had   loll   his    fting, 
I*could  invite  the  angel   on, 

And  chide  his  lazy   wing. 

VI. 

Away  thefe  interpofing  days, 

And  let  the  lovers  meet  ; 
The  angel  has  a  cold  embrace, 

But  kind,  and  foft,  and  fweet, 

VII. 

I'd  leap  at  once  my  fev'nty   years, 

I'd  rufh  into  his  arms, 
And  lofe  my  breath,  and  all  my  cares, 

Amidft  thofe  heav'nly   charms. 

VIII. 

Joyful    I'd   lay  this  body  down. 

And   leave  the  lifelefs  clay, 
Without  a  figh,  without  a  groan, 

And  ftretch  and  fo3r  away. 


SINCERE      PRAISE, 

I. 

ALMIGHTY  Maker,    Gon  ! 
How  wond'rous  is  thy  Name  ? 
Thy  glories  how  diffus'd  abroad 
Through  the  creation's  frame  ! 
E 


33        LTRIC    P  0  E  M  $,       Book  I. 
ir. 

Nature  in    ev'ry   drefs 
Her  humble  homage   pays, 
And  finds  a  thoufand    ways  t'exprtfs 
Thine  uudifltmbled   praife. 

III. 
In  native  white  and  red 
The  rofe  and  lily   (land, 
And,  free  from  pride,  their  beauties  fpread, 
To  fliew   thy  fkilful  hand. 

IV. 
The  lark  mounts  up  the  iky, 
With  unambitious  fong, 
And  bears  her  Maker's  praife  on  high 
Upon  her  ardefs  tongue. 

V. 

My  foul  would  rife  and  fing 
To  her  Creator  too  ; 
Fain  would  my  tongue  adore  my  King, 
And  pay  the  worfhip  due  ; 

VI. 

But  pride,  that  bufy  fin, 
Spoils  all  that  I  perform  ; 
Curs'd  pride,  that  creeps  fecurely  in, 
.And  fwells  a  haughty  worm. 

VII. 

Thy  glories  I  abate, 
Or  praife  thee  with  defign  ! 
Some    of  the    favours  I  forget, 
Or  think  the  merit    mine. 

VIII. 
The   very  fongs  I  frame 
Are  faithlefs  to  thy  caufe, 
And  fteal  the  honours   of  thy  name 
To  build  their  own  applaufe. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  39 

IX. 

Create  my  foul  anew, 
Elfe  all  my  worfhip's  vain  't 
This  wretched  heart  will  ne'er  be  true 
Until  'tis  forni'd  again. 

X. 

Defcend,    celeftial   fire, 
And  feize    me  from  above  ; 
Melt  me  in  flames  of  pure  defiie, 
A   facrifice   to   love. 

XI. 

Let  joy  and  worfhip  fpend 
The  remnant  of  our  days, 
And  to  my  God,   my  foul,  afcend, 
In  fweet  perfumes  of  praife. 


TRUE     LEAR  XING. 

PARTLY   IMITATED  FROM   A  FRENCH   SONNET 
OF  MR.  POIRET. 

I. 

HAPPY  the  feet  that  Alining  truth  has  led 
With  her  own  hand  to  tread  the  path  (lie  pleafe  ; 
To  fee  her  native  luftrc  round  her  fpread, 

Without  a  veil,  without  a  (hade, 
All  beauty  and  all  light,  as  in  herfelf  (he  is. 

II. 
Our  fenfes  cheat  us  with  the  prefllng  crouds 
Of  painted    fhapes  they  thrufl  upon  the  mind  : 
The  truth  they  (hew  lies  wrapp'd  in  fevenfold  fhrouds  : 

Our  fenfes  cad  a    thoufand   clouds 
On  unenlightened  fouls,  and  leave  them  doubly  bKnd. 


4o       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 
III. 

I  hate  the  dud  that  fierce  difputers  raife, 

And  lofe  the  mind  in  a  wild  maze  of  thought  : 

What  empty  triflings,   and  what  fubtle  ways, 

To  fence  and  guard  my  rule  and  rote  ! 
Our  God  will  never  charge  us,  That  we  know  them  not. 

IV. 
Touch,  heav'nly  Word,  O  touch  thefe  curious  fouls  ; 
Since  I  have  heard  but  one  fofc  hint  from  thee, 
From  all  the  vain  opinions  of  the  fchools 

(That  pageantry  of  knowing  fools) 
I  feel  my  pow'rs  releas'd,  and  (land  divinely  free. 

V. 
'Twas  this  almighty  Word  that  all  things  made  : 
He  grafps  whole  nature  in  his  Angle  hand  ; 
All  the  eternal  truths  in  him  arc  laid  ; 

The  ground  of  all  things,  and  their  head  ; 
The  circle  where  they  move, and  centre  where  they  (land. 

VI. 
Without  his  aid  I  have  no  fure  defence 
Prom  troops  of  errors  that  beflege  me  round  j 
Eut  he  that  refts  his  reafon  and  his  fenfe 

Fafl  here,    and  never  wanders  hence, 
Unmoveable  he  dwells  upon  unfliaken  ground. 

VII. 

Infinite  Truth,  the  life  of  my  defires, 
Come  from  the  Iky,  and  join  thyfelf  to  me  ; 
I'm  tir'd  with  hearing,  and  this  reading  tires  ; 

But  never  tir'd  of  telling  thee, 
Tis  thy  fair  face  alone  my  fpirit  bums  to  fee. 

VIII. 

Speak  to  my  foul,  alone,   no  other  hand 
Shall  mark  my    path  out  with  dtlufive  art  : 
All   nature  filent  in  his  prefence  ftand  ; 

Creatures,  be  dumb  at  his  command, 
And  leave  his  Angle   voice  to  whifper  to  my  hear: 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  4I 

TX. 

Retire,  my  foul,  within  thyfelf  retire, 
Away  from  fenfe  and  every  outward  (how  : 
Now  let  my  thoughts  to  loftier  themes  afpire  ; 

My  knowledge  now  on  wheels  of  fire 
May  mount  and  fpread  above,  furveying  all  below. 

X. 
The  Lord  grows   lavifh  of  his  heav'nly   light, 
And  pours  whole  floods  on  fuch  a  mind  as  this  : 
Fled  from  the  eyes  (he  gains  a  piercing  fight  ; 

She  dives  into  the    infinite, 
And  fees  unutterable  things  in  that  unknown  abyfs. 


TRUE     WISDOM. 

I. 

PRonounce  him  bleft,  my  mufe,whomwisDOM  guides 
In  her  own  path  to  her   own  heav'nly  feat  ; 
Through  all  the  tlorms  his  foul  fecurely  glides, 
Nor  can  the   tempefts,.  nor  the  tides, 
That  rife  and  roar  around,  fupplant  his  fteady  fee:. 

II. 

Earthj  you  may  let  your  golden  arrows  fly, 
And  feek  in  vain  a  pa  flag  e  to  his  breaft, 
Spread  all  your  painted  toys  to  court    his  eye 

He  fmiles,  and  fees  them  vainly  try 
To  lure  his  foul  afide  from  her  eternal  reft. 

III. 

Our  hcadflrong  lulls,  like  a  young  fiery  horfe, 

Start,  and  flee,  raging  in  a  violent  courfe  ; 

He  tames  and  breaks  them,   manages   and   rides   'tm, 

Checks  their  career,  and  turns  and  guides  'em, 
And  bids  his  reafon  bridle   their  licentious  force. 
E2 


4.2       LrAlC    POEMS,        Book  I. 

IV. 
Lord  of  himfclf,  he  rules  his  wildell  thoughts, 
And  boldly  acts  what  calmly  he  dcfign'd, 
While  he  locks  down  and  pities  human  faults  ; 

Nor  can  he  think,   nor  can  he  find, 
A  plague  like  reigning  paffions,  and  a  fubjedt  mind. 

V. 
But,  cli  !    'tis  mighty  toil  to  reach  this  height  : 
To  vanquish  ftlf  is  a   laborious   art  ; 
What  manly  courage  to  fuftain  the  fight, 

To  bear  the    noble  pain,  and  part 
With  thofe  dear  charming  tempters  rooted  in  the  heart  ! 

VI. 

'Tis  hard  to  Hand  when  all  the  paffions  move  j 
Hard  to  awake  the  eye  that  paffion  blinds  ; 
To  rend  and  tear  out    this   unhappy  love 

That  clings  fo  clofe  about  our  minds, 
And  where  th 'enchanted  foul  fo  fweet  a  poifon  finds. 

VII. 
Hard  ;  but  it  may  be  done.      Come,  heav'nly  fire, 
Come  to  my  bread,  and  with  one  pow'rful  ray 
Melt  off  my  lull,  my  fetters  :    I   can  bear 

A  while    to  be  a  tenant  here, 
But  not  be  c,hain'd  and  prifon'd  in  a  cage  of  clay. 

VIII. 
Heav'n  is  my  home,  and  I  mud  ufe  my  wings  ; 
Sublime  above  the  globe  my  flight  afpires  : 
I  have  a  foul  was  made  to  pity   kings, 

And  all  their  little  glittering    things  ; 
I  have  a  foul  was  made  for  infinite  defires. 

IX. 
Loos'd  from  the  earth,  my  heart  is  upward  flown  ; 
Farewell,  my  friends,  and  all  that  once  was  mine  ; 
Now,  fliould  you  fix  my  feet  on  Caefar's  throne, 

Crown  me,  and  call  the  wotld   my  own,  [fine. 

The  gold  that  binds  my  brows  could  ne'er  my  foul  con- 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  4.3 

X. 

I  am  the  Lord's,  and  Jesus  is  my  love  ; 
He,  the  dear  God,  fliall  iill  my  va(t  defire, 
My  flefh  below  ;  yet  I  can  dwell  above, 

And  nearer  to  my  Saviour  move  ; 
There  all  my  foul  (hall  centre,  all  my  pow'rs  confpire, 

XI. 

Thus  I  with  angels  live  ;   thus,  half  divine, 

I  fit  on  high,   nor  mind  inferior  joys  : 

Fill'd  with  his  love,  I  feel  that  God  is  mine  ; 

His  glory  is  my    great    defign  : 
That  cverlafting  project  all  my  thoughts   employs, 


A    SONG    TO    CREATING    WISDOM, 

PART      FIRST. 

I. 

ETERNAL  Wisdom,  Thee  we  praife 
Thee  the  creation  fings  : 
With  thy  loud  name,  rocks,  hills,  and  feas, 
And  heav'n's  high  palace  rings. 
II. 
Place  me  on  the  bright  wings  of  day 

To  travel  with  the  fun  ; 
With  what  3 maze  fhall  I  furvey 
The  wonders  thou  hall  done  ! 
III. 
Thy  hand,  bow  wide  it   fpread  the  iky  I 

How  glorious  to   bthold  ! 
Ting'd  with  a  blue  of  heav'nly  dye, 
And  ftarr'd  with   fparkling  gold. 
IV. 
There  thou  haft  bid  the  globes  of  light 

Their  cndlefs  circles  run  ; 
There  the  pale  planet   rules  the  night,. 
And  day  obeys  the  fun. 


44       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 


PART     SECOND. 

V. 

Downward  I  turn   my   wondring   eyes 
On  clouds  and  ftorms  below  : 

Thofe  under- regions  of   the  Ikies 
Thy  num'rous  glories  mew. 

VI. 

The  noify  winds  ftand  ready  there 

Thy  orders  to  obey  ; 
With  founding  wings  they  fweep  the  air, 

To  make  thy  chariot  way. 

VII. 

There,  like  a  trumpet  loud  and  ftrong, 
Thy  thunder  (hakes  our  coaft  ; 

While  the  red  lightnings  wave  along 
The  banners  of  thine  hoft. 

VIII. 
On  the  thin  air,  without  a  prop, 

Hang   fruitful  fhow'rs  around  : 
At  thy  command  they  fink,  and  drop 

Their  fatnefs  on  the   ground. 


PART     THIRD. 

IX. 
Now  to  the  earth  I  bend  my  fong, 

And  caft  my  eyes  abroad  : 
Glancing  the   Britifh   ifles  along. 

Bleft  ifles  confefs  your  God. 

X. 
How  did  his  wondrous  fkill  array 

Your  fields  in  charming  green  ! 
A  thoufand  herbs  his  ait  difplay, 

A  thoufand  flow'rs   between  ! 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C,  45 

XL 
Tall   oaks  for  future  navies  grow, 

Fair  Albion's  bell  defence, 
While  corn  and  vines  rejoice  below  : 

Thofe  luxuries  of  fenfe. 

XII. 

The  bleating  flocks  his  pafture  feeds  : 

And   herds  of  larger  fize, 
That  bellow  through   the  Lindian   meads, 

His  bounteous  hand  fupplies. 


PART    FOURTH-. 

XIII. 

We  fee  the  Thames  carefs  the  mores  ; 

He  guides  her  filver  flood  : 
While  angry  Severn  fweils  and   roars, 

Yet  hears  her  ruler,  God. 

XIV. 
The  rolling  mountains  of  the  deep 

Obfcrvc  his  ilrong  command  ; 
His  breath  can  raife  the  billows  fleep, 

Or  fink  them   to  the  fand. 

XV. 
Amidft  thy  wat'ty  kingdom,  Lord, 

The  finny  nations  play, 
And  fcaly  monilers,   at  thy  word, 

Rufh  through  the    northern  fea, 


PART    FIFTH. 

XVI. 

Thy  glories  blaze  all   nature  round, 

And  ftrike  the  gazing  fight, 
Through  fkies,  and  Teas,  and  folid  ground, 

With  terror  and  delight. 


46       LTRIC   PO  EMSt        Book  h 

XVII. 
Infinite  ftrength  and  equal  (kill 

Shine  through  the  worlds  abroad  : 
Our  fouls  with  va(t  amazement    fill, 

And  fpeak  the  Builder,  God. 

XVIII. 

But  the  fweet  beauties  of  thy  grace 

Our  fofter  paffions  move  ; 
Pity  divine  in  JESUS'  face 

We  fee,  adore,  and  love. 


GOD  S    ABSOLUTE     DOMINION. 

I. 

LORD,  when  my  thoughtful  foul   furveyi 
Fire,  air,  and  earth,  and  ftara,  and  feas, 

I  call  them  all  thy  flaves  ; 
Commiffion'd  by  my  Father's  wirl, 
Poifons  /hall  cure,  or  balms  (hall  kill  ; 

Vernal  funs,  or  zephyr's  breath, 
May  hum  or  blad  the  plants  to  death 

That  fharp  December  faves  ; 

What  can  winds  or  planets  boafl 

Bnt  a  precarious   pow'r  ? 
The   fun  is  all  in  darknefs  loft  ; 
Frofl;  fhall  be  fire,  and  fire  be  froft* 

When  he  appoints  the   hour. 

II. 

Lo,  the  Norwegians,  near  the  polar  fky, 
Chafe  their  frozen  limbs  with  fnow  ; 
Their  frozen  limbs  awake  and  glow. 
The  vital  flame,  touch'd  with  a  ftrange  fupply, 
Rekindles,   for  the  God  of  life  is  nigh  : 
He  bids  the  vital  flood  in  wonted  circles  flow. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  47 

1 
Cold  fteel,  expos'd  to  northern    air, 
Drinks  the  meridian  fury  of  the  midnight  bear, 
And  bums  th'unwary  ftranger  there. 

HI. 

Inquire,  my  foul,  of  ancient  fame, 
Look  back  two  thoufand  years,  and  fee 
Th'Aflyrian  prince  transform'd  a  brute, 
For  boalling  to  be  abfolute  : 

Once  to  his  court  the  God  of  Ifrael  came, 
A  King  more  abfolute  than  he  ; 
I  fee  the  furnace    blaze   with   rage 
Seven-fold  :    I  fee,  amidft  the  flame, 
Three  Hebrews  of  immortal  name  ; 

They  move,  they  walk  acrofs  the  burning  ftage, 

Unhurt,  and  fearlefs,  while  the  tyrant  flood 
A  ftatuc  ;  fear  congeal'd  his  blood  : 
Nor  did  the  raging  element  dare 
Attempt  their  garments  or  their  hair; 

It  knew  the  Lord  of  nature  there. 

Nature,  compell'd  by  a  fuperior  caufc, 
Now  breaks  her  own  eternal  laws  ; 
Now  feems  to  break  them,  and  obeys 
Her  fov'reign  King  in  different  ways. 
Father,  how   bright  thy  glories  fhine  ; 
How  broad  thy  kingdom,  how  divine  ! 
Nature,  and  miracle,  and  fate,  and  chance,  arc   thine. 

IV. 
Hence  from  my  heart,  ye  idols,  flee, 
Ye  founding  names  of  vanity  ! 
No  more  my  lips  fhall  facrifice 
To  chance  and  nature,  tales  and  lies  : 

Creatures  without  a  God  can  yield  me  no  fupplies. 
What  is  the  fun,  or  what  the  fhade, 
Or  frofts,  or  flames,  to  kill  orfave  ? 

His  favour  is  my  life,  his  lips  pronounce  me  dead  ; 
And  as  his  awful  dictates  bid, 
Earth  is  my  mother,  or  my  grave. 


4»       LTRIC   POEMS,       Book  I, 


CONDESCENDING     GRACE. 

IN      IMITATION      OF      PSALM      CXIV. 

I. 

WHEN  the  Eternal  bows  the  fkies 
To  vifit  earthly  things, 
With  fcorn  divine   he  turns  his  eyes 
From  tow'rs  of  haughty  kings  ; 

II. 

Rides  on  a  cloud,  difdainful,   by 

A  fultan,   or  a  czar  ; 
Laughs  at  the  worms  that  rife  fo  high, 

Or  frowns  'em  from  afar. 

III. 

He    bids  his  awful    chariot  roll 
Far   downward  from  the    fkieSj   . 

To  vifit  every  humble  foul, 
With  pleafure  in  his  eyes. 

IV. 

Why  (hould   the  Lord,  that  reigns  above, 

Difdain  fo  lofty  kings  ? 
Say,  Lord,  and  why  fuch  looks  of  love 

Upon  fuch  worthlefs  things  ? 

V. 

Mortals,  be  dumb  ;  what  creature  dares 

Difpute  his  awful  will  ; 
Afk  no  account  of  his  affairs, 

But  tremble,  and  be  ftill. 

VI. 
Juft  like  his  nature  is  his  grace, 

All  fovereign,  and  all  free  ! 
Great  God,  how  fearchlefs  are  thy  ways  ! 

How  deep  thy  judgments  be  ' 


-6ACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  49 


THE      INFINITE. 

I. 

SOME  feraph  lend  your  heav'nly  tongue, 
Or  harps  of  golden  firing, 
That  I  may  raife    a   lofty   fong 
To  our  eternal   King. 

II. 
Thy  names,  how  infinite  they  be  ! 

Great   everlasting   Ohe  ! 
Boundlefs  thy  might   and  majefty, 

And  unconfin'd  thy  throne  ! 

III. 

Thy  glories  fhine  of  wondrous  fize, 
And  wondrous  large  thy  grace  ; 

Immortal  day  breaks  from  thine  eyes, 
And  Gabriel  veils  his  face. 

IV. 
Thine  efience  is  a  vaft  abyfs, 

Which  angels  cannot  found  ; 
An  ocean  of  infinities, 

Where  all  our  thoughts  are  drown'd. 

V. 
The  royfl'ries  of  creation  lie  . 

Beneath  enlighten'd  minds  ; 
Thoughts  can  afcend    above  the  fky. 

And  fly  before  the  winds. 

vr. 

Reafon  may  grafp  the  mafly  hills, 
And    dretch    from   pele  to  pole, 

But  half  thy  name  our  ipirit  fills, 
And  overloads  our  foul. 
F 


5° 


LTRIC    POEMS,        Boole  I. 

VII. 
In  vain  our  haughty  reafon  fwells  ; 

For  nothing's  found  in  thee 
But  boundlcfs  inconceivables, 

And  vaft.  eternity  ! 


CONFESSION    AND    PARDON. 

I. 

ALAS,  my  aking  heart  ! 
Here  the  keen  torment  lies  ; 
It  racks  my  waking   houn  with  fmart. 
And  frights  my  fiumb'ring  eyes. 

II. 

Guilt  will  be  hid  no  more  \ 
My  griefs  take  vent  apace  ; 
The  crimes  that  blot  my  confeience  o'er 
Flufh  crimfon  in  my  face. 

III. 

Mv  forrows,  like  a  flood, 
Impatient  of  reftraint, 
Into  thy  bofom,  O  my  God, 
Pour  out  a  long   complaint. 

IV. 

This  impious  heart  of  mine 
Could  once  defy   the  Lord  ; 
Could  rufli  with  vi'lence  on  to  fin. 
In  prefence  of  thy  fword. 

V. 
How  often  have  I  flood 
A  rebel  to  the  flues, 
The  calls,  the  tenders,  of  a  Got. 
And  mercy's  louden;  cries  i 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  £| 

VI. 
He  offers  all   his  grace, 
And  all  his  heav'n  to  mc  ; 
Offers  !   but  'tis  to  fenfelefs   brafs, 
That  cannot  feel  nor  fee. 

VII. 

Jesus,  the  Saviour,    Hands 
To  court  me  from  above, 
And  looks  and  fpreads  his  wounded  hands, 
And  fhews  the  prints  of  love. 

vnr. 

But  I,  a  ft upid    fool, 
How  long  have  I  withstood 
The  bleflings  purchas'd  with  his    foul, 
And  paid  for  all  in  blood  ! 

IX. 

The  heav'nly  Dove  came  down 
And  tender'd  me  his  wings, 
To  mount  me  upward  to  a  crown, 
And  bright  immortal  things. 

x. 

Lord1,   I'm  afham'd  to  fay- 
That  I  refus'd  thy  Dove, 
And  fent  thy  Spirit  griev'd  away, 
To  his  own    realms  of  love. 

XI. 

Not  all  thine  heav'nly  charms, 
Nor  terrors  of  thy    hand, 
Could  force  me  to  lay  down  my  arms, 
And  bow  to  thy  command.    . 

XII. 
Lord,  'tis  againft  thy  face 
My  fins  like  arrows  rife, 
And  yet,  and  yet  (O  matchlefs  grace  !) 
Thy  thunder  filent  lies. 


52       LYRIC   POEMS,       Book  I, 

XIII. 

O  fhall  I  never  feel 

The  meltings  of  thy  love  ! 
Am  I  of  fuch  hell-harden'd  fteel 

That  mercy  cannot   move  ? 
XIV. 

Now,  for  one  pow'rful  glance, 

Dear  Saviour,  from  thy  face  ! 
This  rebel  heart  no  more  withftands, 

But  finks   beneath  thy  grace. 
XV. 

O'ercome  by  dying  love  I  fall  ; 

Here  at  thy  crofs  I  lie  : 
And  throw  my  flefh,  my  foul,  my  all, 

And  weep,  and  love,  and  die. 
XVI. 

"  Rife,"  fays  the  Prince  of  Mercy,  "  rife, 

(With  joy  and   pity  in  his  eyes) 
'*  Rife  and  behold  my  wounded  veins  : 

"  Here  flows  the  blood  to  wafh  thy  ftains. 

XVII. 
"  See  my  great  Father  reconcil'd," 
He  faid.      And  lo,  the  Father  fmil'd  ; 
The  joyful  cherubs  clapp'd  their  wings, 
And  founded  grace  on  all  their  firings  ! 


YOUNG     MEN      AND    MAIDENS,     OLD     MEN 
AND    BABES,    PRAISE    YE    THE    LORD. 

Pfalm  cxlvjii.    12. 

I. 

ONS  of  Adam,  bold  and  young, 
In  the  wild  mazes  of  thofe"  veins 
A  flood  of  fiery  vigour  reigns, 
And  wields  your  active  limbs  with  hardy  finewaflrung  ; 


s 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  5^ 

Fall  proftrate  at  th'eternal   throne 
Whence  your  precarious  pow'rs    depend  : 
Nor  fwell,  as  if  your  lives  were  all  your  own, 
But  choofe  your  Maker  for  your  friend  ; 

His  favour  is  your  life,  his  arm  is  your  fupport  ; 

His  hand  can  ft  retch  your  days, or  cut  your  minutes  fhor:! 

II. 

Virgins,   who  roll  your  artful   eyes, 
And  fhoot  delicious  danger   thence  j 
Swift  the  lovely  lightning  flies, 
And  melts  our  reafon  down  to  fenfe  ; 
Boaft  not  of  thofe  withering  charms 
That  muft  yield   their  youthful  grace 
To  age  and  wrinkles,  earth  and  worms  ; 
But  love  the  Author  of  your  fmiling  face  ; 
That  heav'nly  Bridegroom  claims  your  blooming  hours  ; 
O  make  it  your  perpetual  care 
To   pleafe  that  everlafting  Fair  : 
His  beauties  are  the  fun,  and  but  the  fhade  is  yours. 

in.- 

Infants,  whofe   different  deftinies 
Are  wove  with  threads  of  different  fize  ; 
But  from  the  fame  fpring-tide  of  tears 
Commence  your  hopes,  and  joys,  and  fears 
(A  tedious  train  !)  and  date  your  following  years  : 
Break  your  firft  filence  in  his  praife 

Who   wrought  your  wondrous  frame  : 
With  founds  of  tend'refl  accent  raife 

Young  honours  to  his  name  ; 
And  confecrate  your  early  days 
To  know  the  Pow'r  Supreme. 
IV. 
Ye   heads  of  venerable   age, 
Juft  marching  off  the    mortal  ftage  ; 
Fathers,  whofe  vital  threads  are  fpun 
As  long  as  e'er  the  glafs  of  life  would  r i: n , 
F  3 


54       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 

Adore  the  hand  that  led  your   way 
Through  fiow'ry  fields  a  fair  long  fummer's  day  ; 
Gafp  out  your  foul  in   praifes  to  the  Sov'reign  Pow'r 
That  fet  your  Weft  fo  diftant  from  your  dawning  hou:\ 

FLYING     FOWL     AND     CREEPING      THINGS, 
PRAISE    YE    THE    LORD. 

Pfalm  cxlviii.    10. 
I. 

SWEET  flocks,  whofe  foft  enamell'd  wing 
Swift  and  gently  cleaves  the  Iky  : 
Whofe  charming  notes  addrefs  the  fpring 
With  an  artlefs  harmony  : 
Lovely  minftrels  of  the    field, 
Who  in  leafy  fhadows  fit, 
And  your  wondrous  ftructures  build  ; 
Awake  your  tuneful  voices  with  the  dawning  light  ; 
To    nature's  God  your  firft  devotions  pay, 

Ere  you  falute  the  rifing  'day  : 
'Tis  he  calls  up  the  fun,  and  gives  him  ev'iy   r3y. 
II. 
Serpents,  who  o'er  the  meadows  Aide, 
And  wear  upon  your  fhining   back 
Num'rous  ranks  of  gaudy  pride, 
Which  thoufand  mingling  colours  make  ; 
.Let  the  fierce  glances  of  your  eyes 

Rebate  their  baleful  fire  : 
In  harmlefs  play  twift  and  unfold 
The  volumes  of  your  fcaly  gold  : 
That  rich  embroidery  of  your  gay  attire 
Proclaims  your  Maker  kind  and   wife. 
III. 
Infecls   and   mites,  of  mean  degree, 
That  fwarm  in  myriads    o'er  the  land, 
Moulded   by  wifdom's   artful  hand, 
And  curl'd  and   painted  with  a  various  dye  ; 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C. 

In  your   innumerable   forms 
Praife  him  that  wears  th'ethereal  crown, 
And  bends  his  lofty  counfels  down, 
To  defpicable  woims  1 


THE    COMPARISON    AND    COMPLAINT, 

I. 

INFINITE  Pow'r,  eternal  Lord, 
How  fov'reign  is  thy  hand  ! 
All  nature  rofe  t'obey  thy  word, 
And  moves  at  thy  command. 

II. 

With  fteady  courfe  thy  mining  fun 

Keeps  his  appointed    way  ; 
And  all  the  hours  obedient  run. 

The  circle  of  the    day. 

Ill- 

But,  ah  !  how  wide  my  fpirit  flies, 
And  wanders  from  her  God  ! 

My  foul  forgets  the  heav'nly  prize, 
And  treads  the  downward  road. 

IV. 
■    The  raging  fire  and  flormy  fea 
Perform  thine  awful  will, 
And  ev'ry  bead  and  ev'ry  tree 
Thy  great   defigns  fulfil  ; 

V. 

While  my  wild  paffions  rage  within,. 

Nor  thy  commands  obey  ; 
And  flefn  and  fenfe,  enflav'd  to  fin, 

Draw  my  belt  thoughts  away, 


$6       LTRIC    POEMS,        Book  I. 

VI. 

Shall  creatures  of  a  meaner  frame 

Pay  all  their  dues  to  thee  ; 
Creatures,  that  never  knev;  thy   name, 

That  never  lov'd  like  me  1 

VII. 
Great  God,  create  my  foul  anew  ; 

Conform  my  heart  to  thine  ; 
Melt  down  my  will,  and  let  it  flow, 

And  take  the  mould   divine. 

VIII. 
Seize  my  whole  frame  into  thy  hand  , 

Here  all  my  pow'rs   I  bring  : 
Manage  the  wheels  by  thy  command, 

And  govern  ev'ry  fpring  : 

IX. 

Then  fhall  my  feet  no  more  depart, 

Nor  wand'ring  fenfes  rove  ; 
Devotion   (hall  be  all   my  heart, 

And  all  my  paffions  love  : 

X. 

Then  not  the  fun  fhall  more  than  I 

His  Maker's  law   perform, 
Nor  travel  fwifter  through   the  /ley, 

Nor  with  a  zeal  fo  warm. 


GOD    SUPREME    AND     SELF-SUFFICIENT* 

I. 

WHAT  is  our  God,  or  what  his  name, 
Nor  men  can  learn,  nor  angels  teach  ; 
He  dwells  conceal'd   in  radiant  flame, 
Where  neither  eyes  nor  thoughts  can  reach 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  57 

II. 

The  fpacious  worlds  of  heav'nly  light, 
Compar'd  with  him,  how  fhort  they  fall  ! 
They  are  too  dark,  and  he  too  bright  : 
Nothing  are  they,  and  God  is  all. 

III. 

He  fpoke  the  wondrous  word,  and,  Io  ! 
Creation  rofe  at  his  command  : 
Whirlwinds  and  feas  their  limits  know, 
Bound  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

IV. 

There  refts  the  earth,   there  roll  the  fpheres, 
There  nature  leans,  and  feels  her  prop  : 
But  his  own  felf-fufficience   bears 
The  weight  of  his  own  glories  up. 

V. 

The  tide  of  creatures  ebbs  and  flows, 
Meas'ring  their  changes  by  the  moon  : 
No  ebb  his  fea  of  glory  knows  ; 
His  age  is  one  eternal    noon. 

VI. 

Then  fly,  my  fong,  an  endlefs  round, 
The  lofty  tune    let   Michael   raife  : 
All  nature   dwell  upon  the  found, 
But  we  can  ne'er   fulfil  the   praife. 


JESUS    THE    ONLY    SAVIOUR, 

I. 

ADAM,  our  father  and  our  head, 
Tranfgrefs'd  ;  and  juftice  doom'd  us  dead  : 
The  fiery  law  fpeaks  all  defpair  ; 
There's  no  reprieve  nor  pardon  there. 


58       LYRIC    POEMS,       Book  I'- 
ll. 

Call  a  bright  counfel  jn  the  fkies  ; 
"  Seraphs,  the  mighty  and  the  wife, 
u  Say,  what  expedient  can    you   give, 
"  That  fin  be  damn'd,  and  finners  live  ? 

III. 

"  Speak,  are  you  flrong  to  bear  the  load, 
"  The  weighty  vengeance  of  a  God  ? 
11  Which  of  you  loves  our  wretched  race, 
M  Or  dares  to  venture  in  our  place  :" 

IV. 

In  vain  we  aflc  :   for  all  around 

Stand  filent  through  the  heavenly  ground  : 

There's  not  a   glorious  mind  above 

Has  half  the  ftrength,   or  half  the  love. 

V. 

But,    O  unutterable  grace  ! 
Th'Eternal  Son  takes  Adam's  place  ; 
Down  to  our  world  the  Saviour  flies, 
Stretched  his  naked   arms,  and  dies. 

VI. 

J uft ice   was  pleas'd  to  brnife  the  God, 
And  pay  its  wrongs  with  heav'nly  blood  ; 
What  unknown  racks  and  pangs  he  bore  ! 
Then  rofe.     The  law  could  aflc  no  more. 

VII. 
Amazing  work  !   look  down,  ye  ikies, 
Wonder  and  gaze  with  all  your  eyes  ; 
Ye  heav'nly  thrones,  (loop  from  above, 
And  bow  to  this  myfterious  love. 

VIII. 
See,  how  they  bend  !   fee,  how  they  look  ! 
Long  they  had  read  th'eternal   book, 
And  ftudied  dark  decrees  in  vain  ; 
The  crofs  and  Calvaiy  make  them  plain. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  59 

IX. 
Now  they  arc  (truck  with  deep  amaze  ; 
Each  with    his  wings  conceals   his  face  ; 
Now  clap  their  founding  plumes,  and  cry, 
"  The  wii'dom  of  a  DEITY  !" 

X. 

Low  they  adore  th'incarnate   Son, 
And  fing  the  glories  he  hath  won  ; 
Sing  how  he  broke  our  iron  chains  ; 
How  deep  he  funk,  how  high  he  reigns. 

XI. 
Tiiumph  and  reign,    victorious  Lord, 
By  all  thy  flaming  holts  ador'd  : 
And  fay,  dear  Conqueror,  fay,  how  long 
Ere  we  (hall  rife  to  join  their  fong  ? 

XII. 

Lo,  from  afar,   the  promis'd  day 
Shines  with  a  well-diftinguiih'd  ray  ; 
But  ray  wing'd  pafllon    hardly  bears 
Thefe  lengths  of  flow  delaying  years. 

XIII. 
Send  down   a  chariot  from   above, 
With  fiery  wheels,  and  pav'd  with   love  ; 
Raife  me  beyond  th'ethereal  blue, 
To  fing  and  love  as  angels  do. 


LOOKING      UPWARD. 

I. 

THE  heavens  invite  mine  eye, 
The  (tars  falute  me  round  ; 
Father,  I  blufh,   I  mourn  to  lie 
Thus  grov'ling  on  the  ground. 


6o       LTR1C    POEMS,       Book  I 
II. 

My  warmer  fpirits  move, 
And   make  attempts  to  fly  ; 
1  wifh  aloud   for  wings  of  love 
To   raife  me  fwift   and   high. 

III. 

Beyond  thofe  cryftal  vaults, 
And  all  their  fparkling  balls  ; 
TheyVe  but  the  porches  to  thy  courts, 
And  paintings  on  thy  walls. 

IV. 

Vain  world,  farewell  to  you  ; 
Heav'n  is  my  native  air  : 
1  bid  my  friends  a  fhort  adieu, 
Impatient   to  be  there. 

V. 

I  feel  my  pow'rs  releas'd 
From  their  old  flefhy  clod  ; 
Fair  Guardian,  bear  me  up  in  hafte, 
And  fet  me  near  my  God. 


CHRIST    DYING,    RISING,  AND    REIGNING. 

I. 

HE  dies  !    the  Heav'nly  Lover  dies  ! 
The  tidings   ftrike  a  doleful  found 
On  my  poor  heart-ftrings  :   Deep  he  lies 
In  the  cold  caverns  of  the  ground  \ 

II. 

Come,  faints,  and  drop  a  tear  or  two 
On  the  dear  bofom  of  your  God  ; 
He  flieds  a  thoufand  drops  for  you  ; 
A  thoufand  drops  of  richer  blood  1 


CRED    TO    DtVOTIOVj    &C.  6  I 

in. 

Here's  love  and  grief  beyond  degree, 
The  Lord  of  glory  dies  for   men  ! 
But,  lo,   what  fudden  joys  I  fee  1 
JESUS  the  dead   revives  again. 

IV. 

The    rifing  God   forfakes  the  tomb  ; 
Up  to  his  Father's   court  he  flies  ; 
Cherubic  legions  guard  him  home, 
Ar.d  fhout  him  welcome  to  the  ikies. 

V. 

Break  off  your  tears,   ye  faints,  and  tell 
How  high  our   great  Deliv'rer  reigns  ; 
Sing  how  he   fpoil'd  the  hofls  of  hell, 
And  led  the  monfter  Death  in  chains. 

VI. 
Say,  "  Live  for  ever,  wondrous  King  ! 
"  Born  to  redeem,  and  ftrong  to  fave  !" 
Then  afk  the  monfter,   "  Where's  his  fting  ? 
•'  And  where's  thy  viftory,  boafting  grave  V* 


THE     GOD     OF     THUNDER. 

I. 

OTHE  immenfe,  the  amazing  height. 
The  boundlefs  grandeur  of  our  God  ; 
Who  treads  the  worlds  beneath  his   feet, 
And  fways  the  nations  with   his  nod  i 

II. 

He  fpeaks  ;  and  lo,  all  nature  makes  : 
Heav'n's  everlailing  pillars  bow  ; 
He  rends  the  clouds   with  hideous   cracks, 
And  (hoots  his  fiery  arrows  through. 
G 


6*       LTRIC    POEMS,        Book  I. 
HI. 

Well,  let  the  nations  ftart  and  fly 
At  the  blue  lightning's  horrid  glare  ! 
Atheills  and  emperors  fhrink  and  die, 
When  flame  and   noife   torment  the   air. 

IV. 
Let  noife  and  flame  confound  the  ikies, 
And  drown  the  fpaciotis  realms  below, 
Yet  will  we  fing  the  Tluind'rer's  praifc, 
And  fend  our  loud  Hofannas  through. 

V. 

Celeflial  King,   thy  blazing  pow'r 
Kindles  our  hearts  to  flaming  joys  ; 
We  fhont  to  hear  thy  thunders  roar, 
And  echo  to   our  Father's  voice. 

VI. 
Thus  (hall  the  God  our  Saviour  come, 
And  lightnings  round  his  chariot  play  I 
Ye  lightnings  fly  to  make  him   room  ; 
Ye  glorious  llorms  prepare  his  way. 


THE     DAY     OF     JUDGMENT: 
AN         ODE. 

Attempted  in  EngUJl}  Sapphic. 

I. 

HEN  the  fierce  north  wind  with  his  airy  forces 
Rears  up  the  Baltic  to  a   foaming  fury  ; 
And  the  red  lightning,  with  a  ftorm  of  hail,  comes 

Rufhing  amain  down, 
II. 
How  the  poor  failors  Hand   amaz'd  and  tremble  ! 
While  the  hoarfe  thunder,  like  a  bloody  trumpet, 
3loars  a  loud  onfet  to  the  gaping   waters, 

Quick  to  devour  them  I 


> 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  6j 

III. 
Such  fliall  the  nqife  be,   and  the  wild  diforder, 
(If  things  eternal  may  be  like  thefe  earthly) 
Such  the  dire  terror,   when  the  great  archangel 

Shakes  the  creation  : 

IV. 

Tears  the  flrong  pillars  of  the  vault  of  heaven, 
Breaks  up  old  marble,  the  repofe  of  princes  ; 
See  the  graves  open,   and  the  bones  arifing, 

Flames  all  around  'em. 
V. 

Hark,  the  fhrill  outcries  of  the   guilty  wretches! 
Lively  bright  horror  and  amazing  anguifh 
Stare  through  their  eye-lids,  while  the  living  worm  lies 

Gnawing  within   them. 
VI. 

Thoughts,  like  old   vultures,  prey   upon   their  heart- 

ftrings, 
And  the  fmart  twinges,  when   their  eye  beholds  the 
Lofty  Judge  frowning,   and  a  flood  of  vengeance 

Rolling  afore    him, 
VII. 

Hopelefs  immortals  !  henv  they  feream  and  fhivcr, 
While  devils  pufh  them  to  the  pit  wide  yawning, 
Hideous  and  gloomy,  to  receive  them  headlong 

Down  to  the  centre  ! 
VIII. 

Stop  here,  my  fancy  :   (all  away,  ye  horrid 

Doleful  ideas)   come,  arife  to  JESUS  ! 

How  he  fits  God-like  !   and  the  faints  around  him 

Thron'd,    yet  adoring  ! 
IX. 
O  may  I  fit  there  when  lie   comes  triumphant, 
Dooming  the  nations  !   then  afcend  to  glory, 
While  our  hofano2s,  all  along  the  paiTage, 

Shout  the  Redeemer ! 


64       L2"RIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 


THE    SONG    OF    ANGELS  ,  ABOVE. 

I. 

EARTH  has  detain'd  me   pris'ner  long, 
And  I'm  grown  weary  now  : 
My  heart,  my  hand,   my  ear,  my  tongue, 
There's  nothing  here  for  you. 
II. 
Tir'd  in  my  thoughts,  I  ftretch  me   down, 

And  upward  glance    mine  eyes  ; 
Upward,  my  Father,  to  thy  throne, 
And  to  my   native  fkies. 
III. 
There  the  dear  Man,  my  Saviour,  fits, 

The  God,  how  bright  he  fhines  ! 
And  fcatters  infinite  delights 
On  all  the  happy  minds. 
IV. 
Seraphs,  with  elevated   drains* 

Ciicle  the  throne  around, 
And  move  and  charm    the  ftarry  plains 
With  an  immortal  found. 
V. 
JESUS,  the  Lord,  their  harps  employs  ; 

JESUS,   my  love,  they  fing  : 
JESUS,  the  name  of  both  our  joys, 
Sounds  fweet    from  ev'rv  firing. 

VI. 

Hark,   how,   beyond  the  narrow  bounds 

Of  time  and  fpace  they  run, 
And  fpeak,  in  molt   majeftic  founds, 

The  Godhead  of  the  Son. 
VII. 
How  on  the  Father's  bread  he  lay. 

The  darling  of  his  foul, 
Infinite  years  before  the  day 

Or  heavens  b^gan  to  roll. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    SCC. 

VIII. 
And  now  they  fink  the  lofty  tone, 

And  gentler  notes  they  play, 
And  bring  th'eternal  Godhead   down 

To  dwell  in  humble  clay. 
IX. 
O  facred  beauties  of  the  Man  ! 

(The  God  reiides  within) 
His  flefh  all  pure,  without  a  (tain  ; 

His  foul  without  a  fin. 
X. 
Then,  how  he  look'd,  and  how  he  fmil'd  I 

What  wondrous  things  he  faid  ! 
Sweet  cherubs,  (lay,  dwell  here  a  while, 

And  tell  what  JESUS  did  ! 
XI. 
At  his  command  the  blind  awake, 

And  feel  the   gladfome  rays  : 
He  bids   the  dumb  attempt  to  fpeak, 

They  try  their  tongues  in  praife. 
XII. 
He  flied  a  thoufand  bleffings  round 

Where'er  he  turn'd  his  eye  : 
He  fpoke,  and,  at  the  fov'reign  found, 

The  hellifh  legions  fly. 

XIII. 
Thus,  while,  with  unambitious   ft  rife, 

Th'tthereal    minftrels  rove 
Through  all  the  labours  of  his  life, 
And  wonders  of  his  love, 
XIV. 
In  the  full  choir  a  broken  firing 

Groans  with  a  ftrange  furprize  ; 
The  reft  in  filence  mourn  their  King 
That  bleeds,  r.nd  loves,  and  dies, 
Gz 


t>6        LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  L 

XV. 

Seraph  and  faint,  with  dropping  wings, 

Ceafe  their  harmonious  breath  : 
No  blooming  trees  nor  bubbling  fpringa 

While  JESUS  fleeps  in  death. 

xvr. 

Then  all  at  once  to  living  ftrains 

They  fummon  ev'ry  chord  ; 
T5reak  up  the  tomb,  and  burft  his  chains, 

And  fliew  their  rifing  Lord. 

XVII. 

Around  the  flaming  army  throngs, 

To  guard  him  to  the  ikies, 
With  loud  hofannas  on  their  tongues. 

And  triumph  in  their  eyes. 

XVIII. 

In  awful  flate  the  cemqu'ring  God 

Afcends  his  fhining  throne, 
While  tuneful  angels  found  abroad 

The   vicYries  he  has  won. 

XIX. 

Now  let  me  rife  and  join  their  fong, 

And  be  an  angel  too  : 
My  heart,  my  hand,  my  ear,  my  tongue, 

Here's  joyful  work  for  you  ! 

XX. 

I  would  begin  the  mufic  here, 

And  fo  my  foul  fhould  rife. 
Oh  for  fome  heav'nly  notes,  to  bear 

My  fpiiit  to  the  fkies  ! 

XXI. 
There,  ye  that  love  my  Saviour,  fit  ; 

There  I  would  fain  hare  place 
Among  your  thrones,  or  at  your  fcet> 

So  I  might  fee  his  face. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  Sj 

XXII. 
I  am  confin'd  to  earth  no  more, 

But  mount  in  hafte  above, 
To  blefs  the  God  that  I  adore, 

And  fing  the  M^n  I  love. 


FIRE,      AIR,     EARTH,     AND      SEA, 
PRAISE    YE    THE    LORD. 

I. 

EARTH,  thou  great  footftool  of  our  God 
Who  reigns  on  high  ;   thou  fruitful  fource 
Of  all  our  raiment,  life,  and  food  ; 
Our  houfe,  our  parent,  and  our  nurfe  ; 
Mighty  ftage  of  mortal  fccnes, 
Dreft  with  ftrong  and  gay  machines  ; 
Hung  with  golden  lamps  around  ; 
(And  flow'ry  carpets  fpread  the  ground  !) 
Thou  bulky  globe,  prodigious  mafs, 
That  hangs  unpillar'd  in    an    empty  fpace  ! 
While  thy  unwieldy  weight  reds  on  the  feeble  air, 
Blefs  that  almighty  Word  that  fix'd  and  holdsthee  there  ! 

II. 

Fire,  thou  fwift  herald  of  his  face, 

Whofe  glorious  rage,  at  his  command, 

Levels  «    palace  with  the  fand, 
Blending  the  lofty  fpires  in  ruin  with  the  bafe  j 

Ye  heav'nly  flames  that  finge  the   air, 

Artillery  of  a  jealous  God, 
Bright  arrows,  that  his  founding  quivers  bear 

To  fcatter  deaths  abroad  ; 
Lightnings,    adore  the  fovereign  arm,  that  flings 
His  vengeance,  and  your  fires,  upon  the  heads  of  kings. 


6-3         LYRIC    POEMS,       Book  I. 
III. 

Thou  vital  element  the  Air, 

Whofe  boundlefs  magazines  of  breath 

Our  fainting  flame  of  life  repair,  [death  : 

Anil    fave   the   bubble  Man   from   the    cold    arms  of 

And  ye,   whofe  vital  moifture  yields 

Life's  purple  ftream  a  frefh  fupply  ; 

Sweet  Waters,  wand'ring  through  the  flow'ry  fields, 
Or  dropping  from  the  fky  ; 

Confefs  the  Pow'r,  whofe  all-fufficient  name 

Nor  needs  your  aid  to  build  or  to   fupport  our  frame. 

IV. 

Now  the  rude  air,  with  noify  force, 

Beats  up  and  fvvells  the  angry  Sea  ; 

They  join  to  make  our  lives  a  prey, 

And  fvveep  the   failor's   hopes  away. 
Vain  hopes,  to  reach  their  kindred  on   the  fhores  l 

Lo,  the  wild  feas  and  furging  waves 

Gape  hideous  in  a  thoufand   graves. 
Be  Mill,  ye  floods,  and  know  your  bounds  of  fand  ; 

Ye  ftorms,  adore  your  Matter's  hand  : 
The  winds  are  in  his  fill,  the  waves  at  his  command, 

V. 

From  the  eternal  emptinefs 

His  fruitful  word,  by  fecret  fprings, 

Drew  the  whole  harmony  of  things 

That  form  this  noble  univerfe. 

Old  Nothino-  knew  his  pow'rful  hand  : 

o  \ 

Scarce  had    he    fpoke  his   full  command, 
Fire.  Air,  and  Earth,  and  Sea,  heard  the  creating  call, 
And  leap'd  from  empty  nothing  to  this  beauteous  all. 

And   flill  they  dance,  and  (till  obey 
The  orders  they  receiv'd  the  great  creation-day. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    Sec.  6$ 


THE      FAREWELL. 

I. 

DEAD  be  my  heart  to  all  below, 
To  mortal  joys  and  mortal  cares  ; 
To  fenfual  blifs  that  charms  us  fo, 
Be  dark  my  eyes,  and  deaf  my  ears; 

ir. 

Here  I  renounce  my  carnal  tafte 
Of  the  fair  fruit  that  iinners  prize  : 
Their  paradife  (hall  never    walte 
One  thought  of  mine,  but  to  defpife. 

III. 
All  earthly  joys  are  overweigh'd 
With  mountains  of  vexatious  care  : 
And  where's  the  fweet  that  is  not  laid 
A  bait  to  fome  deftru&ive  fnare  ? 

IV. 
Be  gone,  for  ever,   mortal  things  ! 
Thou  mighty  mole-hill,  earth,  farewell  ! 
Angels  afpire  on  lofty  wings, 
And  leave  the  globe  for  ants  to  dwell. 

V. 
Come,  heav'n,  and  fdl  my  vaft  defires, 
My  foul  purfties  the  fov'reign  good  : 
She  was  all  made  of  heav'nly  fires, 
Nor  can  (he  live  on  meaner  food. 


GOD    ONLY    KNOWN    TO    HIMSELF, 

I. 

STAND  and  adore  !   how  glorious  He 
That  dwells  in  bright  eternity  ! 
We  gaze,  and  we  confound  our  fight,    , 
Plung'd  in  th'abyfs  of  dazzling  light  ! 


! 


70       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I, 
II. 

Thou  facred  One,  almighty  Three, 
Great   everlafting  Myfleiy, 
What  lofty  numbers  (hall  we  frame 
Equal  to  thy  tremendous   name  ! 

III. 

Seraphs,  the  neareft  to  the  throne, 
Begin,  and  fpeak   the  great  Unknown  ; 
Attempt  the  fong,   wind  up  your    firings. 
To  notes  untry'd,  and  boundlefs  things. 

IV. 

You,  whofe  capacious  pow'rs  furvey 
Largely  beyond  our  eyes  of  clay  : 
Yet  what  a  narrow  portion  too 
Is  feen,  or  known,  or  thought,  by  you  : 

V. 

How  flat  your  higher!  praifes  fall 
Below  th'immenfe  Original  ! 
Weak  creatines  we,  that  ftrive  in  vain 
To  reach  an  uncreated   drain  ! 

VI. 

Great  God,  forgive  our  feeble  lays, 
.Sound  out  thine  own  eternal  praife  : 
A  fong  fo  vafl,   a  theme  fo  high, 
Calls  for  the  voice  that  tun'd  the  fky. 


PARDON    AND    SANCTIFICATION. 

I. 

Y  crimes  awake  ;  and  hideous  fear 
Diftra£ts   my  rcftlcfs  mind  ; 
Guilt  meets  my  eyes  with  horrid  glare, 
And  hell  purfucs    behind. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C. 


7* 


ir. 

Almighty    vengeance  frowns  on  high, 
And  flames  array  the  throne  ; 

While  thunder  murmurs  round  the  iky, 
Impatient  to  be  gone. 

III. 

Where  fhall  I  hide  this  noxious  h«ad  ! 

Can  rocks  or  mountains  fave  ? 
Or  fliall  I  wrap  me   in    the    fhade 

Of  midnight  and  the   grave  ? 

IV. 

Is  there  no  flielter  from  the  eye 

Of  a  revenging  God  : 
Jesus,  to  thy  dear  wounds  I  fly  ' . 

Bedew  me  with  thy  blood. 

V. 

Thofe  guardian  drops  my  foul   fecure, 

And  wafh  away  my  fln  ; 
Eternal  juftice  frowns  no   more  ; 

And  confeience  fmiles  within. 

VI. 

I  blefs  that  wondrous  purple  ftream, 

That  whitens   ev'ry  ftain  ; 
Yet  is  my  foul  but  half  redeem'd, 

If  fin,  the  tyrant,  reign. 

VII. 

Lord,  blafl:  his  empire  with  thy  breath  ; 

That  curfed  throne  mufl  fall. 
Ye  flatt'ring  plagues,  that  work  my  deaths 

Fly,  for  I  hate  you  aH, 


72        LTRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 


SOVEREIGNTY    AND    GRACJ. 

I. 

THE  Lord  !  how  fearful  is  his  name  ! 
How  wide  is  his  command  ! 
Nature,  with  all  her  moving  frame, 
Rells  on  his   mighty  hand. 
II. 
Immortal  glory  forms  his  throne, 

And  light  his  awful  robe  '; 
While,  with  a  fmile  or  with  a  frown, 
He  manages  the  globe. 
III. 
A  word  of  his  almighty  breath 

Can  fwell  or  fink  the   feas  ; 
Build  the  va(t  empires  of  the  earth, 
Or  break  them  as  he  pleafe. 
IV. 
Adoring  angels  round  him  fall 

In  all  their  mining  forms  : 
His  fov'reign  eye  looks  through  them  all, 
And  pities  mortal   worms. 
V. 
His  bowels  to  our  worthlefs  race, 

In  fweet  compaffion  move  ': 
He  clothes  his  looks  with  foftell  grace, 
And  takes  his  title,   Love. 
VI. 
Now  let  the  Lord  for  ever  reign, 

And  fway  us  as  he  will, 
Sick  or  in  health,  in  cafe  or  pain, 
We  are  his  fav'iues  Mill. 
VII. 
No  more  fliall  peevilTi  paffion  rife  ; 
The  tongue  no  more   complain  : 
'Tis  fov'reign  love  that  lends  our  joys, 
And  love  rtfirr.es   again. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  73 


~K-E     LAW     AND     GOSPEL. 

I. 

«'  •"^URS'D  be  the  man,  forever  curs'd, 
V_y  "  That  doth  one  wilful  fin  commit; 
"  Death  and  damnation  for  the  firft, 
"  Without  relief,  and  infinite  !" 

II. 

Thus  Sinai  roars ;  and,  round  the  earth, 
Thunder,  and  fire,  and  vengeance  flings  ; 
But  JESUS,  thy  dear  gafping  breath, 
And  Calvary,  fay  gentler  things. 

III. 
11  Pardon,  and  grace,  and  boundlefs  love, 
"  Streaming  along  a  Saviour's  blood  ; 
(i  And  life,  and  joys,  and   crowns  above, 
c  Dear  purchas'd  by  a  bleeding  God  !" 

IV. 

Hark,  how  he  prays  (the  charming  found 
Dwells  on  his  dying  lips)  Forgive  ; 
And  ev'ry  groan  and  gaping   wound 
Cries,  "  Father,  let  the  rebels  live  !" 

V. 

Go,  you  that  reft  upon  the  law, 
And  toil,  and  feek  falvation  there  ; 
Look  to  the  flames  that  Mofes  faw, 
And  fhrink,  and  tremble,  and  defpair  ! 

VI. 

But  I'll  retire  beneath  the  crofs  ; 
Saviour,  at  thy  dear  feet  I  lie  : 
And  the  keen  fword  that  JuHice  draw?, 
Flaming  and  red,  (hall  pafs  me  by. 
H 


74       LYRIC   TO  EMS,        Book  I. 


SEEKING    A    DIVINE    CALM    IN    A    I-.ESTLESS 
WORLD. 

0  mens,  qu£  Jlabili  fata  regis  vice,   &c. 

Casimire,  Book  IV.  Od.  28. 

I. 

TERNAL  Mind,  who  rul'ft  the  fates 
Of  dying  realms  and  rifing  dates 
With  one  unchang'd  decree, 
While  we  admire  thy  vaft  affairs, 
Say,  can  our  little  trifling  cares 
Afford  a  fmile  to  thee  ? 

II. 

Thou  fcatterefl  honours,  crowns,  ard  gold  ; 
We  fly  to  feize,  and  fight  to  hold 

The  bubbles  and  the  ore  : 
So  emmets  ftruggle  for  a  grain  ; 
So  boys  their  petty  wars  maintain 

For  fhells  upon  the  fhore. 

nr. 

Here  a  vain   man  his  fceptre  breaks  ; 
The  next  a  broken  fctptre  takes, 

And  warriors  win  and  lofe  : 
This  rolling  world  will  never  ltand, 
Plunder'd  and  fnatch'd  from  hand  to  hand, 

As  pow'r  decays  or  grows. 

•  IV. 
Earth's  but  an  atom  :  greedy  f words 
Carve  it  amongft  a  thoufand  lords, 

ix.id  yet  they  can't  agree. 
Let  greedy  [Words  Mill  fight  and  Hay, 
•I  can  be  poor  ;  but,  Lord,  I  pray 

To  fit  and  fmile  with  thee. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  75 


HAPPY     FRAILTY. 

I. 

**  T  TOW  meanly  dwells  th'immortal  mind  ! 

jLI    "  How  vHe  the-fe  bodies  are  ! 
*'  Why  was  a  clod  of  earth  defign'd 

"  T'enclofe  a  hcav'nly  ftar  ? 

II. 

"  Weak  cottage  where  our  fouls  refide  ! 

"  This  fle/h  a  tott'ring  wall  ; 
"  With  frightful  breaches,  gaping  wide, 

"  The  building  bends  to  fall. 

I  If. 

u  All  round  it  florms  of  tronble  blow, 

"  And  waves   of  forrow  roll  ; 
u  Cold   waves  and  winrer-ftorms   beat  thro', 

"  And  pain  the  tenant-foul. 

IV. 
11  Alas  !  how  frail  our  ftate  !"  faid  I  ; 

And  thus  went  mourning  on, 
Till  fudden,  from  the  cleaving  fry, 
A  gleam  of  glory  Clone. 
y. 

My  foul  all  felt  the  glory  come, 

And  breath'd  her  native  air  ; 
Then  fhe  remember'd  heav'n  her  home, 

And  fhe  a  pris'ner  here. 

VI. 

Straight  fhe  began  to  change  her  key, 

And,  joyful  in  her  pains, 
She  fang  the  frailty  of  her  clay 

In  pleafurable  ftrainr. 


<;6       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  1. 

VII. 
"  How  weak  the  pris'n  is  where  I  dwell  ! 

"  Flefb  but  a  tott'ring  wall  ! 
"  The  breaches  cheerfully  fortel 

"  The  houfe  mud  fhortly  fall. 

VIII. 

if  No  more,  my  friends,  (hall  I  complain, 
•«  Though  all  my  heart- firings  ache  : 

"  Welcome  difeafe,  and  ev'ry  pain 
"  That  makes  the  cottage  (hake. 

IX. 

"  Now  let  the  temped;  blow  all  round  ; 

*'  Now  fwell  the  furges  high, 
"  And  beat  this  houfe  of  bondage  down, 

««  To  let  the  (Iranger  fly. 

X. 

f«  I  have  a  manfion  built  above, 

"  By  the  Eternal  Hand  ; 
**  And  fliould  the  earth's  old  bafis  move, 

11  My  heav'nly  houfe  mud  (land. 

XI. 

"  Yes,  for  'tis  there  my  Saviour  reignB 

tc  (I  long  to  fee  the  Gdd)  ; 
**  And  his  immortal  ftrength  fuflains 
•    "  The  courts  that  coll  him  blood  !." 

XII. 

Hark,  from  on  high  my  Saviour  calls  : 
"  I  come,  my  Lord,  my  Love  i" 

Devotion  breaks  the  prifon-walls, 
And  fpeeds  my  laft  remove, 


;acred  to  Devotion,  &c.  77 


LAUNCHING    INTO     ETERNITY. 


IT  was  a  brave  attempt  !   adventurous  he, 
Who  in  the  firft  (hip  broke  the  unknown  fea  : 
And,  leaving  his  dear  native  fhores  behind, 
Trufted  his  life  to   the  licentious  wind. 
I  fee  the  furging  brine  :   the  tempefl  raves  : 
He  on  a  pine-plank  rides  acrofs  the  waves, 
Exulting  on  the  edge  of  thoufand  gaping  graves. 
He  fleers  the  winged  boat,  and  fhifts  the  fails, 
Conquers  the  flood,  and  manages  the  gales. 

Such  is  the  foul  that  leaves  this  mortal  land, 
Fearlcfs  when  the  great  Mafter  gives  command  ! 
Death  is  the  florm  ;   fhe  fmiles  to  hear  it  roar  ; 
And  bids  the  temped  waft  her  from  the  fhore  : 
Then  with  a  fkilful  helm  fhe  fweeps  the  feas, 
And  manages  the  raging  itorm  with  eafe  : 
"  Her  faith  can  govern  death  ;''fhe  fpreads  her  wings  1 
Wide  to  the  wind,  and  as  fhe  fails  fhe  fings,  ' 

And  lofes  by  degrees  the  fight  of  mortal  things.  J 
As  the  fhores  leffen,  fo  her  joys  arifs  ; 
The  waves  roll  gentler,  and  the  tempeft  dies. 
Now  vaft  eternity  fills  all  her  fight, 
She  floats  on  the  broad  deep  with  infinite  delight, 
The  feas  for  ever  calm,  the  ikies  forever  bright  ! 


A    PROSPECT     OF     THE     RESURRECTION 


I. 

HOW  long  fhall  Death,  the  tyrant,  reign 
And  triumph  o'er  the  juft, 
While  the  rich  blood  of  martyrs  flain 
Lies  mingled  with  the- dull  ? 
Hz 


»8        LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I 
II. 

When  (hall  the  tedious  night  be  gone  ? 

When  will  our  Lord  appear  ? 
Our  fond  defires  would  pray  him  down  ; 

Our  love  embrace  him  here. 

III. 

Let  faith  arife  and  climb  the  hills, 

And  from  afar  defcry 
How  diftant  are  his  chariot-wheels  ; 

And  tell  how  fad  they  fly. 

IV. 

Lo,  I  behold  the  featuring  (hades  ; 

The  dawn  of  heaven  appears  ; 
The  fweet  immortal  morning  fprcads. 

Its  bluihes  round  the  fpheres. 

V. 

I  fee  the  Lord  of  glory  come, 

And  flaming  guards  around  : 
The  (kies  divide  co  make  him  room  ; 

The  trumpet  (hakes  the  ground. 
VI. 
3  hear  the  voice,  "  Ye  dead,  arife  !" 

And,  lo,  the  graves  obey  ! 
And  waking  faints,  with  joyful  eyes, 

Salute  th'expe&cd  day. 

VII. 
They  leave  the  dud,  and  on  the  wing 

Rife  to  the  middle  air  ; 
In  (hining  garments  meet  their  King, 

And  low  adore  him  there. 
VIII. 
O  may  my  humble  fpirit  (land 

Among!!  ihem,  cloth'd  in  white  ! 
The  meanefl  place  at  his  right  hand 

Is  infinite  delight. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,      &C.  79- 

How  will  our  joy  and  wonder  rife, 

When  our  returning'   King 
Shall  bear  us  homeward  through  the  flues 

On  love's  triumphant  wing  ! 


DOMINUM     NOSTRUM    ET     SER.VATOREM, 
JESUM    CHRISTUM. 

O    D   A. 

Nov.  1604, 
I. 

TE,  grandc  Nnmen,  corporis  Jncola, 
Te,  magna  magtii  Progenies  Patris, 
Nomen  verendum  noilri,  JESU, 

Vox,  citharas,  calami,  fonabunt. 
II. 
Aptentur  auro  grandifonse  fides, 
CHRISTI  triumphos  incipe  barbitc, 
Fra&ofque  terrores  Averni, 
Vi£tum  Erebum,  domitamque  Mortem. 
III. 
Immer.fa  vaftos  faecula  circulos 
Volvere,  blando  dum  Patris  in  finu 
Toto  fruebatur  JEHOVAH, 
Gaudia  mille  bibens  JESUS  ; 
IV. 
Donee  fuperno  vidit  ab  aethere 
Adam  cadentem,  Tartara  hiantia 
Unaque  mergendos  ruina 

Heu  nimium  miferos  ncpotes  ! 
V. 
Vidit  minaces  vindicis  angeli 
Ignes  &  enfem,  telaque  fanguine 
Tingenda  no  lire,  dum  rapinse 
Spe  fremuere,  Erebcea  monftrn. 


So       LTR1C    POEMS,        Book  i. 
VI. 

Commota  facras  vlfcera  protinrss 
Senfere  flammas,  omnipotens  furor 
Ebullit,  immenfique  amorfs 
./Ethereum  calet  igne  pe&us. 

VII. 

"  Non  tota  prorfus  gens  hominum  dabit 
s<  Hofti  tritimphos  :   quid  Pacris  &  labor 
*'  Dulcifque  imago  ?  num  peribunt 
"  Funditus  ?  O  prius  aftra  caeci^ 

VIII. 
"  Mergantur  undis,  &  redeat  cbaos  ; 
**  Aut  ipfc  difperdam  Satanae  dolos, 
"  Aut  ipfe  difpcrdar,  &  ifti 

"  Sceptra  dabo  moderanda  dextrx. 
IX. 
"  Teftor  patemum  numen,  &  hoc  caput 
<f  iEquale  teitor,"  dixit  ;   &  setheris 
Inclinat  ingens  culmen,  alto 
Defiliitque  ruens  Olympo. 

X. 

Mortale  corpus  impiger  induit 
Artufque  noftros,    heu  tenues  nimis 
Nimifque  viles  !   Vindicique 
Corda  dcdit  fodienda  ferro* 

XI. 
Vitamquc  morti  ,;   proh  dolor  !   O  graves 
Tonandis  ira  !    O  lex  nimis  afpera  I 
Mercefque  peccati  fevera 
Adamici,  vetitique  fruilus. 

XII. 
Non  poena  lenis!    quo  ruis,  impotens  ! 
(^uo,  Mufa  !   largas  fundere  lachrymas, 
Bullique   divini  triumphos 
Saciilego  temerare  fletu  ? 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &CC.  3 1 

XIII. 
Sepone  queftus,    laeta  £)eum  cane 
Majore  chorda.      Pfallc  fonorius 
Ut  fcrreas  mortis  ccvernas 
Et  rigidara  pcnetravlt  aulam. 

XIV. 
Scnferc  aumcn  regna  fcralia, 
Mugit  barathrum,   contremuit  chaos, 
drum  fremebat  rex  Gehennas, 
Perque  fuum  tremebundus  orcuna. 

XV. 
Late  refugit.     "  Nil  agis,  impir, 
*'  Mergat  vel  imis  te  Phlegethon  vadis, 
*'  Hoc  findet   undas  fulmen,"  inquit, 
Et  patrios  jaculatus  ignes. 

XVI. 

Trajecit  hoftem.     Nigra  filentia 
Umbraeque  flammas  sethereas  pavent 
Dudum  perofse,   ex  quo  corufco 
Precipites  cecidere  coelo. 

XVII. 
Immane  rugit  jam  tonitru  ;  fragor 
Late  ruinam  mendat  :    ab   infimis 
Le&aeque  deftinata  genti 
Tartara  disjiciuntur  antris. 

XVIII. 

Htic  ftrata  pafiim  vincula,  &  heic  jacent 
LTnci  cruenti,  tormina  mentium 
Invifa  ;  ploratuque  vaflo 

Spicula  mors  fibi  adempta  planglt. 

XIX. 
En,   ut  refurgit  victor  ab  ultimo 
Ditis  profundo,   curribus  aureis 
Aftricta  raptans  monftra  noctis 
Perdoraitumque  Erebi  tyrannupj. 


$2       LTRIC    POEMS,        Book!' 

XX. 

Quanta  angelorum  gaudia  jubilant 
Vi&or  patetnum  dum  rtpctit  polum  ! 
En  qualis  ardet,  dum  bcati 

Limina  fcandit  ovans  Olympi  ! 
XXI. 
To  trlumphe  !    p'leclra  feraphica, 
Io  tn'umphe  !    Grex  hominum  fonet, 
Dum  lxta  quaquaverfus  ambos 
Aftra  repercutiunt  triumphos. 


SUI-IPSIUS      INCREPATIO. 

EPIGRAMMA. 

CORPORE  cur  bjcres,  Wattfi  ?  cur  fn«ola  tcrne  ? 
Quid  cupis  indignurn,  mens,  habitats  lutum  ? 
Te  caro  mi'le  malis  premit  ;    hinc  jnvcncs  gravat  ai  tU3 

Languor,  &  hinc  vegetus  crimina  fanguis  alit. 
Cura,  amor,  ira,  dolor,  mentem  male  diftrahit  j  auceps 

Undique  adeft  Satanas  retia  foeva  ftruens. 
Sufpice  ut  aethereum  fignant  tibi  nutibus  aflra 

Tramltem,   &  aula  vocat   parta   cruore  Dei. 
Te  manet  Uriel  dux  ;   &  tibi  fubjicit   alas 

Stellatas  feraphin  officiofa  cohors. 
Te  fuperfim   chorus  optat  amans,   te  invitat  JESUS, 

"  Hue  ades,  &  noftro  tempora  conde  finu." 
Vera  amat  ille  lutum  quern  nee  dolor  aut  Satan  arcet, 

Inde  nee  alliciunt  angelus,  aflra,  Deus. 


EXCITATIO    CORDIS    CAELUM    VERSUS. 

1694. 

HEU  quod  fecla  terfis  carcere  corporis, 
Wattfi  ?  quid  refugis  limen  &  exitum  ? 
Nee  mens  agthereum  culmen,  &  atria 

Magni  Patris  anhelitat  I 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  S3 

Corpus  vile  creat  mille   moleftias, 
Circum  corda  volant  &  dolor  &  metus, 
Peccatuinque  malis  durius  omnibus 

Caxas  infidias  ftruit. 

Non  hoc  grata  tibi  gaudia  de  folo 
Surgunt  :    Christus  abeft,  delicise  tuse, 
Longe  Christus  abeft,  inter  &  angelos 

Et  picra  aftra  perambulans, 

*  Cocli  fumma  petas,  nee  jaculabitur, 
Iracunda  tonans  fulmina  :  Te  Deus 
Hortatur  :   vacuum  tende  per  acra 

Pennas  nunc  liomini  datas, 


BREATHING      TOWARDS      THE      HEAVENLY 

COUNTRY. 

Casimire,  Book  I.  Od.  19.  imitated. 

Urit  me  patr'ne  decor,   Sec. 

THE  beauty  of  my   native  land 
Immortal   love   infpires  ; 
I  burn,   I  burn,  with  ftrong  defires, 

And  figh,  and  wait  the  high  command. 
There  glides  the  moon  her  mining  way, 
And  fiioots  my  heart  through  with  a  filver  rsy. 
Upward  my  heart  afpires  : 
A  ihoufand  lamps  of  golden  light, 
Hung  high  in  vaulted  azure,  charm  my  fight, 
And  wink  and  beckon  with  their  am'rous  fires. 
O  ye  fair  glories  of  my  heav'nly  home, 

Bright  centinels  .Kwho  guard  my  Father's  comtj 
Where  all  the  happy  minds  refort, 
When  will  my  Father's  chariot  come  ? 


*  Vid.   Hor at.  Lib.  I.  Od.  3. 


$4        LYRIC   P  0  EMS,      Book  L 

Mull  ye  for  ever  walk  the  ethereal  round  5 
For  ever  fee  the   mourner  lfe 

An  exile  of  the  /ley, 

A  prifoner  of  the  ground  ? 
Defcend,  fome  mining  fervant  from  on  high, 

Build  me  a  hafty  tomb  : 
A  grafTy  turf  will  raife  my  head  ; 
The  neighbouring  lilies  drefs  my  bed, 

And  fhed  a  fweet  perfume. 
Here  I  put  off  the  chains  of  death 

My  foul  too  long  has  worn  : 
Friends,   I  forbid  one  groaning  breath, 

Or  tear  to  wet  my  urn  ; 
Raphael  !   behold  me  all  undreft, 
Here  gently  lay  this  flefh  to  reft  : 
Then  mount,  and  lead  the  path  unknown, 
Swift  Ipurfue  thee, flaming  guide, on  pinions  of  my  own! 


CASIMIRI    EPIGRAMMA    IOO. 

IN    SANCTUM      ARDALIONEM     QUI,     EX     MIMO      CHRIS- 
TIANUS    FACTUS,    MARTYRIUM    PASSUS    EST. 

ARDALIO  facros  deridet  carmine  ritus, 
Feftaque  non  :cqua  voce    theatra  quatit. 
Audiit  Omnipotens  ;   "  Non  eft  opus,  inquit,  hiulc* 
"  Fulmine  ;   tam  facilem,  gratia,  vince  virum." 
Deferit  ilia  polos,  &  deferit  ifte  theatrum, 
Et  tereti  facrum  volvit  in  enfe  caput. 
C(  Sic,  fie,  inquit,  abit  noftrse  commoedia  vitre  ; 

"  Terra,  vale  j  ccclum,  plaude  ;  tyranne,  fen." 


\ 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    SCC.  85 

Engli/heJ. 

ON    SAINT    ARDALIO, 

"WHO    FROM    A    STAGE-PLAYER    BECAME     A    CHRISTIAN, 

AND    SUFFERED     MARTYRDOM. 

I. 

ARDALIO  jeers,  and  in  his  comic  rtrains 
The  myit'ries  of  our  bleeding  God  profanes, 
While  his  loud  laughter  fliakes  the  painted  fcenes. 

II. 
Heav'n  heard  ;  and  flraight  around  the  fmoking  throne 
The  kindling  lightning  in  thick   flafhes  fhone, 
And  vengeful  thunder  murmur'd   to  be  gone. 

III. 
Mercy  flood  near,  and,  with  a  fmiling  brow, 
Calm'd  the  loud  thunder  ;  "  there's  no  need  of  you  ; 
"  Grace  (hall  dcfcend,  and  the  weak  man  fubdue." 

IV. 
Grace  leaves  the  fkies,  and  he  the  flage  forfakes  ; 
He  bows  his  head  down  to  the  martyring  aX, 
And,  as  he  bows,  this  gentle  farewell  fpeaks  : 

V. 
u  So  goes  the  comedy  of  life  away  ; 
"  Vain  earth,  adieu  ;  heav'n  will  applaud  to-day  : 
M  Strike,  courteous  tyrant,  and  conclude  the  play." 


WHEN  THE  PROTESTANT  CHURCH  AT  MONTPELIER 
WAS  DEMOLISHED  BY  THE  FRENCH  KING'S  OR- 
DER, THE  PROTESTANTS  LAID  THE  STONES  UP  IN 
THEIR  EURYING-PLACE  ;  WHEREON  A  JESUIT- 
MADE    A    LATIN    EPIGRAM. 

Englijhed  thus  : 

AHUG'NOT  church,  once  at  Montpelier  built, 
Stood  and  proclaim'd   their   madnefs  and    their 
Too  long  it  flood  beneath  heav'n's  angry  frown;  [guilt. 
Worthy,  when  rifing,  to  be  thunder'd  down. 


IS       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 


Lewis  at  lad,  tli'avenger  of  the  fkies, 
Commands  ;   and  level  with  the  ground  it  lies  : 
The  Hones  difpers'd,  their  wretched  offspring  come, 
Gather  and  heap  them  on  their  fathers'    tomb. 
Thus  the  curs'd  houfe  falls  on  the   builders'  head  : 
And,  though  beneath  the  ground  their  bones  are  laid, 
Ytt  the  jufl  vengeance  (till  purfues  the  guilty   dead. 


} 


THE     ANSWER. 
BY    A    FRENCH    PROTESTANT. 

EngYiJhed  thus  : 

A  CHRISTIAN  church  once  at  Montpelier  flood, 
And  nobly  fpoke  the  builder's  zeal  for  God. 
It  flood  the  envy  of  the  fierce  dragoon, 
But  not  deferv'd  to  be  dcflroy'd  fo  foon  : 
Yet  Lewis,  the  vile  tyrant  of  the  age, 
Teats  down  the  walls,  a  vidrim  to  his  rage. 
Young  faithful  hands  pile  up  the  facred  flones 
(Dear  monument  !)  o'er  their  dead  fathers'   bones  ; 
The  flones  fhall  move  when  the  dead  fathers  rife, 
Start  up  before  the  pale  deftroyer's  eyes, 
And  teflify  his  madnefs  to  th'avenging  fkies. 


1 


TWO    HAPPY    RIVALS, 
DEVOTION    AND    THE    MUSE. 

I. 

WILD  as  the  lightning,   various  as  the  moon, 
Roves  my  Pindaric  fong  : 
Here  fhe  glows,  like  burning  noon, 
In   fiercefl  flames,  and  here  fhe  plays 
Gentle  as  ftar-beams  on  the  midnight  feas  ! 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  87 

Now  in  a  fmiling   angel's   form, 
Anon  (he  rides  upon  the  (lorm. 
Loud  as  the  noify  thunder,  as  a  deluge  ftrong, 
Are  my  thoughts  and  wifhes  free, 
And  know  no  number  nor  degree  ! 
Such  is  the  mufe  :    Lo,  (he  dildains 

The  links  and  chains, 
Meafures  and  rules  of  vulgar  drains  ; 
And  o'er  thelaws  of  harmonyafov'reignqueenfhcreigns!. 

II. 

If  (he  roves 
By  dreams  or  groves, 
Turning  her  pleafures  or  her  pains, 
My  paffion  keeps  her  (till  in  fight, 
My  paffion  holds  an  equal  flight 
Through  love's  or  nature's  wide   campaigns. 
If,  with  bold  attempt,  fhe  fings 
Of  the  biggeft  mortal  things, 
Tott'ring  thrones  and  nations  flain  ; 
Or  breaks  the  fleets  of  warring  kings, 
While  thunders  roar 
From  fhore  to  fhore, 
My  foul  fits  fall  upon  her  wings, 
Andfvveeps  the  crimfonfurge,orfcours  the  purple  plains, 

Still  I  attend  her,  as  fhe  flies, 
Round  the  broad  globe,  and  all  beneath  the  fkies. 

III. 
But,  when  from  the  meridian  flar 

Long  ftreaks  of  glory  fhine, 

And  heav'n  invites  her  from  afar, 

She  takes  the  hint,  (he  knows  the  fign, 

The  mufe  afcends  her  heavenly  car, 
Andclimbs  the  fteepy  path, and  means  the  thronedivine  : 
Then  fhe  leaves  my  flutt'ring  mind, 
Clogg'd  with  clay  and  unrefin'd  ; 
Lengths  of  diflance  far  behind, 
Virtue  lags  with  heavy  wheel  j 


88       LYRIC   POEMS,       Book  I. 

Faith  has  wings,  but  cannot  rife, 

Cannot  rife, fwift  and  high, 

As  the  winged  numbers  fly, 
And  faint  Devotion  panting  lies,. 
Half  way  th'ethreal  hill. 

IV. 

O  why  is  piety  fo  weak, 

And  yet  the  Mufe  fo    ftrong  ? 
When  (hall  thefe   hateful  fetters  break 

That  have  confin'd  me  long  ? 
Inward  a  glowing  heat  I  feel, 

A  fpark  of  heav'nly  day  ; 
But  earthly  vapours  damp  my  zeal, 
And  heavy  fltfh  drags  me  the  downward  way. 

Faint  are  the  efforts  of  my  will, 
And  mortal  pafiion  charms  my  foul  aftray. 
Shine,  thou  fweet  hour  of  dear  releafe,. 
Shine  from  the  iky, 
And  call  me  high, 
To  mingle  with  the  choirs  of  glory  and  of  blifj. 
Devotion  there  begins  the  flight, 
Awakes  the  fong,  and  guides  the  way  ; 
There  love  and  zeal,  divine  and  bright, 
Trace  out  new  regions  in  the  world   of  light, 
And  fcarce  the  boldeft  mufe  can  follow  or  obey. 

V. 

I'm  in  a  dream,  and  fancy  reigns, 
She  fpreads  her  gay  delufive  fcenes  ! 

Or  is  the  viiion  true  ? 
Behold  Religion  on  her  throne, 

In  awful  date  defcending  down,  [view. 

And  her  dominions  vaft  and  bright  within  my  fpacious 
She  fmiles,  and  with  a  courteous  hand 
She  beckons  me  away  ; 
I  feel  mine  airy  pow'rs  loofe  from  the  cumb'roua  clay, 
And  with  a  joyful  hade  obey 
Religion's  high  command. 


sacred  to  devotion,  &c.  £9 

What  ltngihs,  and  heights,  and  depths,  unknown  i 
Broad  fields,  with  blooming  gloiy    fowrn, 
And  feas,  and  ikies,  and  itars,  hei  o\s.i, 

In  an  unmcafu'd    fphere*! 
What  heav'ns  of  joy,  and  light  fcrene, 
Which  nor  the   rolling  fun  has  feen, 
Where  nor  the  roving  Mufe  has  been, 

That  greater  traveller  ! 

VI. 
A  long  farewell  to  all  below  ; 
Farewell  to  all  that  fenfe  can  fhew, 
To  golden  fcenes,  and  flow'ry  fields, 
To  all  the  worlds  that  fancy  builds, 

And  all    that   poets   know. 
Now  the  fwift  tianfports  of  the   mind 
Leave  th^  fluttering  Muff  behind,  .  [the  wind. 

A  thoufand  loofe  Pindaric  plumes  fly  Scattering  down- 
Among  the  clouds  I  lofe  my  breath, 

The  rapture  grows  too  ftrong  : 
The  feeble  pow'rs  that  nature  gave 
Faint  and  drop  downward  to  the  grave  ; 
Receive  their  fall,    thou  treafurer  of  death  ; 
I  will  no  more  demand  my  tongue, 
Till  the  grofs  organ,  well  refin'd, 
Can  trace  the  boundlefs  flights  of  an  unfetter'd  minch 
And  raife  an   equal  fong  ! 


I  7. 


90       LTRIC    POEMS,.        Book  I. 


The  following  Poems  of  this  Book  are  ■peculiarly 
dedicated  to  Divine  Love*. 

THE  HAZARD  OF 
LOVING  THE  CREATURES. 

I. 

WHERE'ER  my  flatt'ring  pafiiona  rorc 
I  find  a  lurking  fnare  ; 
Tis  dang'rous  to  let  loofe  our  love 
Beneath   th'eternal  Fair. 
II. 
Souls,  whom  the  tie  of  friendship  binds, 

And  partners  of  our  blood, 
•Seize  a  large  portion  of  our  minds, 
And  leave  the  lefs  for  God. 
III. 
Nature  has  foft,  but  pow'rful  bands, 

And  reafon  (he   controuls  ; 
While  children  with  their  little  hands 
Hang  clofeft   to   our  fouls. 

IV. 

ThoughtLefa  they  act  th'old  ferpent's  part  -, 

What  tempting  things  they  be  ! 
X.ORD,  how  they  twiue  about  our  heart, 

And  draw  it  off  from  thee  ! 

*  Different  ages  have  their  different  airs  and  fajhions  of 
writing.  It  was  much  more  the  faflnon  of  the  age,  when 
ihefe  Poems  were  written,  to  treat  of  divine  fuhjeSs  in 
thejlyle  of  Solomon  s  Song  than  it  is  at  this  day  ;  which 
will  afford  fome  apology  for  the  writer  in  his  younger 
vears. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  91 

V. 

Our  hafly  wills  rufh  blindly  on 

Where  riling  paflion   rolls  ; 
And  thus  we  make  our  fetters  ftrong 

To  bind  our  flavifh  fouls. 

VI. 

Dear  Sov'reign,  break  thefe  fetters  off, 

And  fet  our  fpirits  free  ; 
God,  in  himfelf,   is  blifs  enough  ; 

For  we  have  all  in  thee. 


DESIRING    TO    LOVE    CHRIST. 

I. 

COME,  let  me  love  :   Or  is  my  mind 
Harden'd  to  ftone,  or  froze  to  ice  3 
I  fee  the  blefTed   fair  one  bend 
And  itoop,  t'embracc  me  from  the  fkies  ! 

II. 

0  !   'tis  a  thought  would  melt  a  rock, 
And  make  a  heart  of  iron  move, 

That  thofe  fweet  lips,  that  heav'nly  look, 
Should  feek  and  wifh  a  mortal  love  i 

III. 

1  was  a  traitor  doom'd  to  fire, 
Bound  to   fuftain  eternal  pains  ; 
He  flew  on  wings  of  ftrong  defire, 
AfTum'd  my  guilt,  and  took  my  chains, 

IV. 

Infinite  grace  !   almighty  charms  ! 
Stand  in  amaze,    ye  whirling  fkies  ; 
JESUS,   the  God,  with  naked  arms, 
Hangs  on  a  crofs  of  love,  and  dies  ! 


92       LYRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 
v. 

Did   pity  ever  ftoop  fo  low, 
Drefs'd  in  divinity  and  blood  ? 
Was  ever  rebel  courted  fo 
In  groans  of  an  expiring  God  ? 

VI. 
Again  he  lives  ;  and  fpreads  his  hands, 
Hands  that  were  nail'd  to  tort'ring  fmart  ; 
"  By  thefe  dear  wounds,"  fays  he  ;  and  ftand* 
And  prays  to'clafp  me  to  his  heart. 

VII. 
Sure  I  mud  love  :    or  arc  my  ears 
Still  deaf,  nor  will  my  paflion  move  ? 
Then  let  me  melt  this  heart  to  tears  ; 
This  heart  (hall  yield  to  death  or  love. 


THE    HEART    GIVEN    AWAY. 

I. 

IF  there  are  pafllons  in  my  foul, 
(And  paflions  fure  there  be) 
Now  they  are  all  at  thv  controul  ; 
My  JESUS,  all  for  Thee. 

II. 

If  love,  that  pleafing  pow'r,  can  reft 

In  hearts  fo  hard  as  mine, 
Come,  gentle  Saviour,  to  my  breaft, 

For  all  my  love  is  thine. 

III. 

Let  the  gay  world,  with  treach'rous  art, 

Allure  my  eyes  in  vain  : 
I  have  convey'd  away  my  heart, 

Ne'er  to  return  again. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    ScC.  93 

IV. 
I  feel  my  warmed  paffioii6  dead 

To  all  that   earth  can  boafl  ; 
This  foul  of  mine  was  never  made 

For  vanity  and  dull. 

V. 

Now  I  can  fix  my  thoughts  above, 

Amidft  their  flatt'ring  charms, 
Till  the  dear  Lord,  that  hath  my  lore, 

Shall  call  me  to  his  arms. 

VI. 

So  Gabriel,  at  his  King's  command, 

From  yon  celeftial  hill, 
Walks  downward  to  our  worthlefs  land  ; 

His  foul  points  upward   dill. 

VII. 

He  glides  along  by  mortal  things 

Without  a  thought  of  love  ; 
Fulfils  his  talk,  and  fpreads  his  wings 

To  reach  the  realms  above. 


MEDITATION    IN    A    GROVE. 

I. 

SWEET  Mufe,  defcend  and  blefs  the  toad*, 
And  blcfs  the  ev'ning  grove  ; 
Bus'nefs,  and  noife,  and  day  are  fled, 
And  ev'ry  care  but  love. 

II. 
But  hence,  ye  wanton  young  and  fair  j. 

Mine  is  a  purer  flame  ; 
No  Phyllis  lhall  inftft  the  air 

With  her  unhallow'd  name. 


94         LYRIC   POEMS,      Book  I. 
ill. 

JESUS  hath  all  my  pow'rs  pofleft, 

My  hopes,  my  fears,  my  joys  : 
He,  the  dear  fov'reign  of  my  bread, 

Shall  ftill  command  my  voice. 
IV. 
Some  of  the  faireft  choirs  above 

Shall  flock  around    my  fong 
With  joy,   to  hear  the  name  they  love 

Sound  from  a  mortal  tongue. 
V. 
His  charms  (hall  make  my  numbers  flow, 

And  hold  the  falling  floods, 
While  filence  fits  on  ev'ry  bough, 

And  bends  the  liil'iaing  woods. 
VI. 
I'll  carve  our  paffion  on  the  bark, 

And  ev'ry    wounded  tree 
Shall  drop  and  bear  fome  myftic  mark, 

That  JESUS  dy'd  for  me. 
VII. 
The  fwains  fhall  wonder  when  they  read, 

Infcrib'd  on  all  the  grove, 
That  Heav'u  itfelf  came  down,  and  bled, 

To  win  a  mortal's  love  ! 


THE    FAIREST    AND    THE    ONLY    BELOVED. 

I. 
"ONOUR  to  that  diviner  ray, 
That  firft  allur'd  my  eyes  away 
From  ev'ry  mortal  fair  ; 
All  the  gay  things  that  held  my  fight 
Seem  but   the  twinkling  fparks  of  night,. 
And,  languishing  in  doubtful  light, 
Die  at  the  morning- ftar„ 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  <^ 

II. 

Whatever  fpeaks  the  Godhead  great, 

And  fit  to  be  ador'd, 
Whatever  makes  the  creature  fweet 
And  worthy  of  my  paffion,   meet 

Harmonious  in   my  Lord. 
A  thoufand  graces  ever  rife 

And  bloom  upon  his  face  ; 
A  thoufand  arrows,  from  his  eyes, 
Shoot  through  my  heart  with  dear  furpriie. 

And  guard  around  the  place* 

III. 

All   nature's  art  fhall  never  cure 

The  heav'nly  pains  I  found  ; 
And  'tis  beyond  all  beauty's  pow'r 

To  make  another  wound  : 
Earthly  beauties  grow  and  fade  ; 
Nature  heals  the  wounds  (he  made  ; 

But  charms,  fo  much  divine, 
Hold  a  long  empire  of  the  heart  ; 
What  heav'n  has  join'd  fhall  never  part  j 

And  JESUS  mud  be  mine. 

IV. 

In  vain  the"  envious  fliades  of  night, 

Or  flatt'ries  of  the  day, 
Would  veil  his  image  from  my  fight, 

Or  tempt  my  foul   away  ; 
JESUS  is  all  my  waking  theme, 
His  lovely  form  meets  ev'ry  dream, 

And  knows  not   to  depart  : 
The  paffion  reigns 
Through  all  my  veins, 
And,  floating  round  the  crimfon  ftream, 

Still  finds  him  at  my  heart. 


f>6        LTRIC   POEMS,        Book  I. 

v. 

Dwell  there,  for  ever  dwell,  my  Lo»e  ; 

Here  I  confine  my  fenfe  ; 
Nor  dare   my  wildcft    withes  rove, 

Nor  ftir  a  thought  from   thence. 
Amidft  thy  glories  and  thy  grace, 
Let  my  remnant  minutes  pafs  ; 

Grant,  thou  everlasting  Fair, 

Grant  my  foul  a  manfion  there  ; 
My  foul  afpires  to  fee    thy  face, 
Though  life  fnould  for  the  vifion  pay  ; 
So  rivers  run  to  meet  the  fea, 
And  lofe  their  nature  in  th'embrace. 

VI.  ' 

Thou  art  my  ocean,  thou  my  God  ; 
In  Thee  the  paffions  of  the  mind, 
With  joys  and  freedoms  unconfin'd, 
Exult,  and  fpread  their  pow'rs  abroad. 
Not  all  the  glitt'ring  things  on  high 
Can  make  my  heav'n,  if  thou  remove  ; 
I  (hall  be  tir'd  and  long  to  die  ; 
.Life  is   a  pain  without  thy  love. 

Who  could  ever  bear  to  be 

Curft  with    immortality 
Among  the  ftars,  but  far  from  thee  ? 


MUTUAL    LOVE    STRONGER    THAN    DEATH, 

I. 

NOT  the  rich  world  of  mines  above, 
Can  pay  the  mighty  debt  of  love 
I  owe  to  Christ,   my  God. 
With  pangs,  which  none  but  he  could  feel, 
He  bought  my  guilty  foul  from  hell  ! 
Not  the  firfl  Graph's  tongue  can  tell 
The  value  of  hi$  blood. 


'ACRED    TO    DEVOTION',    &C.  ^ 

ir. 

Kindly  lie  fclz'd  me  in  his  arms 

From  the  falfe  world's  pernicious  charm  J.. 

With  force   divinely  fwett. 
Had  I  ten  thoufand  lives  my  own, 
At    his  demand, 
With    cheerful  hand, 
I'd  pay  the  vital  treafure   down 
In   hourly  tributes  at  his  feet. 
III. 
But,  Saviour,  let  me  tafte  thy  grace 

With  ev'ry  fleeting  breath  ; 
And   throng!)  that  heav'n  of  pleafure  pafs 
•  To  the  cold  arms  of  death  : 
Then  I  conld   lofe  fucceffive  fouls 

Fan:  as  the  minutes  fly  ; 
So  billow  after  billow  rolls, 
To  kifs  the  more  and   die  ! 


The  Subjlance  of  the  following  Copy,  and  many  of  the 
IAnes,  were  fent  me  ly  an  efleemed  Friend,  Mr.  W. 
Nokes,  tvith  a  Defire  that  I  would  form  fhem  into  a 
Pindaric  Ode  ;  but  I  retained  his  Meafures,  lejl  I 
Jhould  too  much  alter  the  Senfe. 

A    SIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

ANGELS  of  light,  your  God  and  King  furround 
With  noble  fongs  :    in  his  exalted  fiefh 
He  claims  your  worfhip  ;  while  his  faints  on  earth 
Blefs  their  Redeemer-God  with  humble  tongue?. 
Angels,  with  lofty  honours,  crown  his  head  : 
We,  bowing  at  his  feet  by  faith,  may  feel 
His  diftant  influence,  and  confefs  his  love. 

Once  I  beheld  his  face,  when  beams  divine 
Broke  from  his  eye-lids,  and  unufual  light 
Wrapt  me  at   once  in  glory  and  furprire. 
K 


o8        LYRIC    POEMS,         Book  I. 

My  joyful  heart,  high-leaping  in   my  bread, 
With  tranfport  cry'd,   This  is  the  CHRIST  of  GOD  .' 
Then  threw  my  arms  around,  in  fwect  embrace,    [him. 
And  ciafp'd,  and  bow'd,  adoring  low,  till  I  was  loll  in 

While  he  appears,  no  other  charms  can  hold 
Or  draw  my  foul,  afham'd  of  former  things, 
Which  no  remembrance  now  deferve  or  name, 
Though  with  contempt  ;  belt  in  oblivion  hid. 

But  the  bright  fhine  and  prefence  foon  withdrew  ; 
1  fought  him  whom  1  love,  but  found  him  not  ; 
I  felt  his  abfence  ;   and,  with  tlrongeit   cries, 
Proclaim'd,    Where.  JESUS  is  not,  all  is  vain  ! 
Whether  I  hold  him,  with  a  full  delight, 
Or  feek  him  panting  with  extreme  defire, 
'Tis  he  alone  can   pleafe  my  wond'ring  foul  : 
To  hold  or  feek   him   is  my  only  choice. 
If  he  refrain  on  me  to  cad  his  eye 
Down  from  his  palace,  nor  my  longing  foul 
With  upward  look  can  fpy  my  dearefl.  Lord 
Through  his  blue  pavement,  I'll  behold  him  ftill 
With  fwect  reflection,  on  the  peaceful  crofs, 
All   in  his  blood  and    anguifli  groaning  deep, 

Gafping  and  dying  there  !  ■ 

This  fight  I  ne'er  can  lofe  ;    by  it  I  live. 
A  quick'ning  virtue,  from  his  death  infpir'd, 
Is  life  and  breath  to  me  ;   his  flefh  my  food  ; 
His  vital  blood  I  drink,  and  hence  my  ftrength. 

I  live,   I'm  ftrong,   and  now  eternal  life 
Beats  quick  within  my  bread  ;    my  vigorous  mind 
Spurns  the  dull  earth,   and  on  her  fiery  wings 
Reaches  the  mount  of  purpofes  divine  ; 
Counfels  of  peace   betwixt  th'almighty  Three, 
Conceiv'd  at  once,   and  fign'd  without  debate. 
In  perfect  union  of  th'eternal   mind. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &C.  99 

With  vafl  amaze  I  fee  th'unfathom'd  thoughts, 

Infinite  fchemes,  and  infinite  defigns 

Of  God's  own  heart,  in  which  he  ever  reds. 

Eternity  lies  open  to  my  view  : 

Here  the  beginning  and  the   end  of  all, 

]  can  difeover  :   Christ  the  end  of  all, 

And  Christ  the  great  beginning  ;   he  my  head, 

My  God,  my  glory,  and  my  all  in  all. 

O  that  the  day,  the  joyful  day,  were   come, 
When  the  firft  Adam,  from  his  ancient  duft, 
Crown'd  with  new  honours,  fhall  revive,  and  fee 
Jesus  his  Son  and  Lord  ;   while  fhouting  faints 
Surround  their  King  ;   and  God's  eternal  Son 
Shines  in  the  midfi,  but  with  fupeiiour  beams, 
And   like    himfelf;   then  the  myfterious  Word, 
L.ong  hid  behind  the  letter,   fhall  appear 
All  fpirit  and  life,  and  in   the  fulleft  light 
Stand  forth  to  public  view,  and  there  difclofe 
His  Father's  facred  works  and  wondrous   ways  : 
Then  wifdom,  righteoufnefs,  and  grace  divine, 
Through  all  the  infinite  tranfadlions  paft, 
Inwrought  and  fhining,  fhall  with  double  blaze 
Strike  our  allonifh'd  eyes,  and  ever  reign, 
Admir'd  and  glorious,   in  triumphant  light. 

Death,  and  the  tempter,  and  the  man  of  fin, 
Now  at  the  bar  arraign'd,  in  judgment  caft, 
Shall  vex  the  faints  no  more  ;   but  perfect,  love 
And  loudeft  praifes  perfect  joy  create, 
While  ever-circling  years  maintain  the  blifsful  ftate 


too      LYRIC    POEMS,       Book  I. 


LOVE  ON  A  CROSS  AND  A  THRONE. 

I. 

NOW  let  my  faith  grow  ftrong,  and  rife. 
And  view  my  Lord  in  all  his  love  ; 
Look  batk  to   hear  his  dying  cries, 
Then  mount  and  fee  his  throne  above- 

II. 

See  where  he  languifh'd  on  the  crofs  ; 
Beneath  my  fins  he  groan'd  and  dy'd  : 
See  where  he  fits  to  plead  my  caufe, 
By  his  almighty  Father's  fide  ! 

III. 
If  I  behold  his  bleeding  heart, 
There  love  in  floods  of  forrow  reigns  ; 
He  triumphs  o'er  the  killing  fmart, 
And  buys  my  pleafure  with  his  pains. 

IV. 
Or,  if  I  climb  th'eternal  hills, 
Where  the  dear  CoNqy*B.OR  fits  enthron'd* 
Still  in  his  heart  compaflion  dwells, 
Near  the  memorials  of  his  wound. 

V. 

How  (hall  a  pardon'd  rebel  (hew 
How  much  I  love  my  dying  God  ! 
Lord,  here  I  banifli  ev'ry  foe  ; 
I  hate  the  fins  that  coft  thy  blood. 

VI. 

I  hold  no   more  commerce  with  hell  : 
My  dcarefl  lufls  fhall  all  depart  : 
But  let  thine  image  ever  dwell 
Stamp'd  as  a  feal  upon  my  heart, 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,   &C.  IOI 


A     PREPARATORY     THOUGHT    FOR     THE 

lord's    SUPPER. 

IN    IMITATION     OF    ISAIAH     LXIII.     I,    2,    3. 
I. 

WHAT  heav'nly  Man,   or  lovely  God, 
Comes  marching  downward  from  the  ifcies  ! 
Array'd  in  garments  roll'd  in  blood, 
With  joy  and  pity  in  his  eyes  ! 

II. 
The  Lord  !   the  Saviour  !   yes,  'tis  he  ; 
I  know  him  by  the  fmiles  he  wears  ; 
Dear  glorious  Man,  that  dy'd  for  me  ! 
Drench'd  deep  in  agonies  and  tears. 

III. 
Lo  !   he  reveals  his  mining  breaft  ; 
I  own  thofe  wounds,  and  I  adore. 
Lo,  he  prepares  a  royal  feaft, 
Sweet-fruit  of  the  fharp  pangs  he  bore  ! 

IV. 
Whence  flow  thefe  favours  fo  divine  i 
Lord  !  why  fo  bvidi  of  thy  blood  ? 
Why  for  fiich  earthly   fouls   as  mine 
Tin's  heav'nly  flefh,  this  facred  food  ? 

V. 
'Twas  his  own  love  that  made  him  bleed  ; 
That  nail'd  him  to  the  curfed  tree  ; 
'Twas  his  own  love  this  table  fpread 
For  fuch  unworthy  worms  as  we. 

VI. 
Then  let  us  tafte  the  Saviour's  love  : 
Come,   faith,  and  feed  upon  the  Lord  : 
With   glad  confcnt  our  lips  mall  move, 
And  fweet  hofannas   crown  the  board, 
K  3 


iQ2        LYRIC    POEMSy      Book  1 


CONVERSE    WITH    CHRIST. 

I. 

I'M  tir'd  with  vifits,  modes  and  forms, 
And  flatt'ries  made  to  fellow-worms  ; 
Their  converfation  cloys  : 
Their  vain  amours  and  empty   fluff  : 
But  I  can  ne'er  enjoy  enough 
Of  thy  beft  company,  my  Lord,  thou  life  of  all  my  joyc- 

II. 

When  he  begins  to  tell  his  love, 
Through  ev'ry  vein  my  paffions  move, 

The  captives  of  his  tongue  : 
In  midnight  mades,  on  froity  ground, 
I  could  attend  the  pleating  found  ;  [nefs  long 

Nor  fhould  I  feel  December  cold,  nor  think  the  dark- 
Ill. 
There,  while  I  hear  my  Saviour-God 
Count  o'er  the  fins  (a  heavy  load  !) 

He  bore  upon  the  tree, 
Inward  I  blufh  with  fecret  fhame, 
And  weep,  and  love,  and  bkfs  the  name 
That  knew  nor  guilt  nor  giicf  his  own,  but  bare  it  all 
for  me. 

IV. 

Next  he  defcribes  the  thorns  he  wore, 
And  talks  his  bloody  pafiion  o'er, 

'Till  I  am   drown'd  in  tears  : 
Yet,  with  the  fympathetic  fmart, 
There's  a  ftrange  joy  beats  round  my  heart  ; 
The  cur  fed  tree  has  blefiings  in't  ;  my  fwectcft  balm  .t 
bears ! 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,  &C.  IOJ 

V. 

I  hear  the  glorious  Suff'rtr  tell 
How  on  his  crofs  he  vanqnifh'd  hell, 

And  all  the  pow'rs  beneath  : 
Tranfported  and  infpir'd,  my  tongue 
Attempts  his  triumphs  in  a  fong  ; 
"  How  has  the  ferpent  loft  his  iting  !  and  where's  thy 
vicVry,  Death  I" 

VI. 
But,  when  he  (hews  his  hands  and  heart, 
With  thofe  dear  prints  of  dying  fmart, 

He  fets  my  foul  on  fire  : 
Not  the  beloved   John  could  reft 
With  more  delight  upon  that  breaft  ; 
Nor  Thomas  pry  into  thofe  wounds  with  more  interrfe 
defne. 

VII. 

Kindly  he  opens  me  his  ear, 
...    And  bids  me  pour  my  forrows  there, 
And  tell  him  all  my  pains  : 
Thus,  while  I  eafe  my  burden'd  heart, 
In  ev'ry  woe  he  bears  a  part  ; 
His  arms  embrace  me,  and  his  hand  my  drooping  head 
fuftains. 

VIII. 
Fly  from  my  thoughts  all  human  things, 
And  fport!  g  fwains,  and  fighting  kings^ 

And  tales  of  wanton  love  : 
My  foui  difdains  that  little  fnare, 
The  tangles  of  Amira's  hair  ; 
Thine  arms,  my  God,  are  fwec-ter  bands  ;    nor  can  my 
heart  remove, 


io4       LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  I. 


GRACE    SHINING,     AND    NATURE    FAINTING. 
Solomon's   Song,  i.  3.  ii.  5.  and  vi.  5. 

1. 

TELL  me,  faired  of  thy  kind, 
Tell  me,  Shepherd  all  divine, 
Where  this  fainting  head  reclin'd 
May  relieve  fuch  cares  as  mine  I 
Shepherd,  lead  me  to  thy  grove  : 
If  burning  noon  infedl  the  /ky, 
The  fick'ning  fheep  to  covert  fly  ; 
The  fheep  not  half  fo  faint  as  I, 
Thus  overcome  with  love. 

II. 

Say,  thou  dear  Sov'reign  of  my  bread, 
Where  doft  thou  lead  thy  flock  to    reft  ? 

Why  fhould  I  appear  like    one 

Wild  and  wand'ring  all  alone, 

Unbeloved   and  unknown  ? 

O  my  great  Redeemer,  fay, 

Shall  I  turn  my  feet   aftray  ! 

Will  Jesus  bear  to  fee  me  rove  ; 

To  fee  mc  feek  another  love  ? 

III. 
Ne'er  had  I  known  his  dcareft    name  ; 
Ne'er  had  I  felt  this  inward  flame, 
Had  not  his  heart-firings  firft  begun  the  tender  found 
Nor  can  I  bear  the  thought,  That  he 
Should  leave  the  iky  ; 
Should  bleed  and  die  ; 
Should  love  a  wretch  fo  vile  as  me, 
Without  returns  of  pafllon  for  his  dying  wound  ! 


SACR2D    TO    DEVOTION,  &C.  IO^ 

IV. 

His  eyes  are  glory  mix'd  with  grace  : 

In  his  delightful  awful  face 

Sit  majefty  and  gendenefs  I 
So  tender  is  my  bleeding  heart, 
That  with  a  frown  he  kills  : 

His  abfence  id  perpetual  frnart  ; 

Nor  is  my  foul  refia'd  enough 

To  bear  the  beamings  of  his  love, 
And  feel  his  warmer  fmiles. 

"Where   mall  I  red  this  drooping  head  r* 
I  love,  I  love  the  fun,  and  yet  I  want  the  ihade. 

V. 

My  finking  fpin'ts  feebly  drive 

T'endure  the  extafy  : 
Beneath  thefe  rays  I  cannot  live, 

And  yet  without  them  die. 
None  knows  the  pleafure  and  the  pain 
That  all  my  inward  pow'rs  fuftain, 
But  fuch  as  feel  a  Saviour's  love,  and  love  theGod  again, 

VI. 

Oh  !   why  fhould  beauty,  heav'nly  bright, 

Stoop  to  charm  a  mortal's  fight, 
And  torture  with  the  fweet  excefs  of  light  ? 

Our  hearts,  alas  !   how  frail  their  make  ! 

With  their  own  weight  of  joy  they  break  ; 
Oh  !   why  is  love  fo  ftrong,  and  nature's  felf  fo  weak  ? 

VII. 

Turn,   turn  away  thine  eyes  ; 

Afcend  the  azure  hills,  and  fhine 
Among  the  happy  tenants  of  the  fkies  : 
They  can  fuftain  a  vifion  fo  divine. 

O  turn  thy  lovely  glories  from  me  ; 
The  joys  are  too  intenfe  ;  the  glories  overcome  rac> 


106       LYRIC   POEMS,      Book  I, 

VIII. 
Dear  Lord,  fprgive  my  rafli  complaint, 

And  love  me  Hill 
Againft  my  froward  will  : 
Unveil  thy  beauties,    though  I  faint. 
Send  the  great  herald  from  the   fky, 
And,   at  the  trumpet's  awful  roar, 
This  feeble    ftate  of  things  (hall  fly, 
And  pain  and  pleafure  mix  no  more  : 
Then  (hall  I  gaze,  with  ftrengthen'd  light, 
On  glories   infinitely  bright  ! 
My  heart  fhall  all  be  love  ;  my  Jesus  all  delight  ! 


LOVE    TO    CHRIST,    PRESENT    OR    ABSENT. 

I. 

OF  all  the  joys  we  mortals  know, 
JESUS,  thy  love  exceeds  the  reft  ; 
Love,  the  beft  blefling  here  below, 
And  neareft  image  of  the  bleft. 

II. 
Sweet  are  my  thoughts,  and  foft  my  cares, 
When  the  celeftial  flame  I  feel  ; 
In  all  my  hopes,   and  all  my  fears, 
There's  fomething  kind  and  pleafing  Hill. 

III. 
While  I  am  held  in  his  embrace, 
There's  not  a  thought  attempts  to  rove  ; 
Each  frnile  he  wears  upon  his  face 
Fixes,  and  charms,  and  fires  my  love. 

IV. 
Pie  fpeaks,  and  ftraight  immortal  joys 
Run  through  my  ears,  and  reach  my  heart  ! 
My  foul  all  melts  at  that  dear  voice, 
And  pleafure  (hoots  through  ev'ry  part. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,  &C.  IO7 

V. 
If  he  withdraw  a  moment's  fpace, 
He  leaves  a  facred   pledge  behind  ; 
Here  in  this  brealt  his  image   Mays, 
The  grief  and  comfort  of  my  mind. 

VI. 

While  of  his  abfence  I  complain, 
And  long,  and  weep,   as  lovers  do, 
There's  a  ftrange  plcafure  in   the  pain, 
And  tears  have  their  own  fweetnefs  too. 

VII. 

When  round  his  courts  by  day  I  rove, 
Or  afk  the  watchmen   of  the   night 
For  fome  kind  tidings  of  my  love, 
His  very  name  creates  delight. 

VIII. 

JESUS,  my  God  !  yet  rather  come  ; 
Mine  eyes  would  dwell  upon  thy  face  ; 
'Tis  beft  to  fee  my  Lord  at  home, 
And  feel  the  prefence  of  his  grace. 


THE    ABSENCE    OF    CHRIST. 

L 

COME,  lead  me  to  fome  lofty  /hade, 
Where  turtles  moan  their  loves  : 
Tall  fhadows  were  for  lovers  made, 
And  grief  becomes  the  groves. 

II. 

'Tis  no  mean  beauty   of  the  ground 
That  has  enflav'd   mine  eyes  ; 

I  faint  beneath  a  nobler  wound, 
Nor  love  below  the  flues. 


io8       LTRIC    POEMS,       Book  L 
III. 

JESUS,  the  fpring  of  all  that's  bright, 

The  everlafting   Fair, 
Ileav'n's  ornament,  and  heav'n's  delight, 

Is  my  eternal  care. 

IV. 
Sut  ah  !   how  far  above  this  grove 

Does  the   blight  Charmer  dwell  ! 
Abfence,  thou  keened  wound  to  love, 

That  {harped  pain  I  feel  ! 

V. 

Penfive,   I  climb  the  facred   hills, 

And  near  him  rent  my  woes  ! 
Yet  his  fweet  face  he  dill  conceals, 

Yet  dill  my  paffion  grows. 

VI. 

I  murmur  to  the  hollow  vale, 

I  tell  the  rocks  my  flame, 
And  blefs  the  echo  in  her  cell 

That  bed  repeats  his  name. 

VII. 

My  pafllon  breathes  perpetual  fighs, 

Till  pitying  winds  fliall  hear, 
And  gently  bear  them   up  the  fkies, 

And  gently  wound  his  ear. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    -See.  fQh 


DESIRING    HIS    DESCENT    TO    EARTH. 

I. 

JESUS  I   love.     Come,  deareft  name, 
Come  and  pofiefs  this  heart  of  mine  ; 
I  love,  though  'tis  a  fainter  flame, 
And  infinitely  lels  than  thine. 

II. 

O  !   if  my  Lord  would  leave  the  flues 
Drelt  in  the  rays  of  mildcft  grace, 
My  foul  ihould  halten  to  my  eyes 
To  meet  the  pleafures  of  his  face, 

III. 

How  would  I  feafl:  on  all  his  charms, 
Then  round  his  lovely  feet  entwine  ! 
Worfliip  and  love,  in  all  their  forms, 
Should  honour  beauty  fo  divine. 

IV. 
In  vain  the_  tempter's  flatt'ring  tongue, 
The  world  in  vain  ihould  bid  me  move  • 
In  vain  ;  for  I  fhould  gaze  fo  long, 
Till  I  were  all  transformed  to  love. 

V. 
Then  (mighty  God)   I'd  fing  and  fay, 
;'  What  empty  names  are  crowns  and  kings  ' 
«  Among  'em  give  thefe  worlds  away, 
"  Thefe  little  defpicable  things." 

VI. 

I^would  not  aik  to  climb  the  flcy, 
Nor  envy  angels  their  abode  ; 
I  have  a  hcav'n  as  bright  and  high 
In  the  bleft  vificn  of  my  God. 


no       LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  I. 

ASCENDING    TO    HIM    IN    HEAVEN. 

I. 

T-ir-iIS  pure  delight  without  alloy, 
J_      JESUS,  to  hear  thy    name; 

My  fplrit  leaps  with  inward  joy  ; 
I  feel  the  facred  flame. 

II. 

My  paffions  hold  a  pleafing  reign, 

While  love  infpiies  my  breaft  ; 
Love,  the  divined  of  the  train  ; 

The  fov'reign  of  the  reft. 

III. 

This  is  the  grace  muft  live  and  fing 
When  faith  and  fear  fliall  ceafc  ; 

Muft  found  from   ev'ry  joyful  firing 
Through  the  fweet  groves  of  blifs. 

IV. 

Let  life  immortal  feize  my  clay  ; 

Let  love  refine  my  blood  ; 
Her  flames  can  bear  my  foul  away, 

Can  bring  me  near  my  God. 
V. 
Swift  I  afcend  the  heav'nly  place, 

And  haften  to  my  home  •, 
I  leap  to  meet  thy  kind  embrace  } 

I  come,  O  Lord,  I  come. 

VI. 
Sink  down,   ye  feparating  hills, 

Let  guilt  and  death  remove  ; 
'Tis  love  that  drives  my  chariot  wheels, 

And  death  muft  yield  to   love. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,   &C.  ilt 


L 


the  presence  of  god  worth  dying  for 
or;  the   death  of  moses, 

I. 
OR.D,  'tis  an  infinite  delight 
^_j    To  fee  thy  lovely  face  : 
To  dwell  whole  ages  in  thy  fight, 
And  feel  thy  vital  rays. 
II. 
This  Gabriel  knows,  and  fings  thy  name 

With  rapture  on  his  tongue  ; 
Mofes  the  faint  enjoys   the  fame, 
And  heav'u  repeats  the  fong. 
III. 
While  the  bright  nation  founds  thy  praif: 

From  each  eternal  hi!}-, 
Sweet  odours  of  exhaling  grace 
The  happy  region   fill. 
IV. 
Thy  love,  a  fea  without  a  /hore, 
Spreads  life  and  joy   abroad  : 
O  'tis  a  heav'n  worth  dying  for, 
To  fee  a  fmiling  God  ! 
V. 
Shew  me  thy  face,  and  I'll  away 

From  all  inferior  things  ; 
Speak,  Lord,  and  here  I  quit  my  clay, 
And  ftretch  my  airy  wings. 
VI. 
Sweet  was  the  journey  to  the /ley 
The  wondrous  prophet  try'd  • 
"  Climb  up  the  mount/'  fays  God,  »  and  die." 
lhc  prophet  climb'd,  and  dy'd 
VII. 
Softly  his  fainting  head  he  lay 
Upon  his  Maker's  brcaft  j 


12        LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  I, 

His  Maker  kifs'd  his  foul  away, 

And  laid  his  flefii  to  reft. 
VII L 
In  Cod's  own  arms  he  left  the  breath 

That  God's   own  fpirit   gave  ; 
He  was  the    nobleft  road  to  death, 

And  his  the  fwee-tefl  grave. 


LONGING    FOR    HIS    RETURN. 

I. 
'TWAS  a  mournful  parting  day  ! 
"  Farewell,  my  fpoufe,"   he  faid  ! 
(How  tedious,  Lord,  is  thy  delay  ! 
How  long  my  love  hath  (laid  !) 
II. 
"  Farewell  ;"  at  once  he  left  the  ground, 

And    climb'd  his  Father's  Iky  ! 
Lord,   I  would  tempt  thy  chariot  down, 
Or  leap  to  thee  on  high. 

III. 

Round  the  creation  would  I  rove, 

And  fearch  the  globe  in   vain  ; 
There's  nothing  here  that's  worth  my  love, 

Till  thou   return   again. 
IV. 
My  paffions  fly  to  feek   their  King, 

And   fend  their  groans  abroad  ; 
They  beat  the  air  with  heavy  wing, 

And  mourn  an  abfent  God. 
V. 
With  inward  pain  my  heart- firings  found'; 

My  foul  diffolves  away  ; 
Bear  Sovereign,  whiil  the  feafons  round} 

And  bring  the  promis'd  day. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,    &X.  II 


HOPE    IN    DARKNESS. 

1694. 
I. 

YET,    gracious  God, 
Yet  will  I  ftek  tliy  fmiling  face  ; 
What  though  a   fiiort   eclipfc  his  beauties  fhrowd, 

And  bar  the  influence  of  his  rays, 
'Tis  but  a  morning  vapour,  or  a  fummer  cloud  ; 
He  is  my  fun,  though  he  refufe  to  fnine  ; 

Though-  for  a  moment  he  depart, 

I  dwell  for  ever  on   his  heart, 
For  ever  he  on  mine. 

Early  before  the  light  arifc, 

I'll  fpr'ng  a  thought  away  to  God  : 

The  pafGon  of  my  heart  and  eyes 
Shall  fhout  a  thoufand  groans  and  fighs  ; 
A  thoufand  glances  ftrike  the  ikies, 

The  floor  of  his  abode. 

IF. 

Dear  Sov'reicn,  hear  thy  fervant  pray  5 

Bend  the  blue  heav'ns,  eternal  King  ; 

Downward  thy  cheerful  graces  bring  ; 
Or  fliall  I  breathe  in  vain,  and  pant  my  hours  away  ? 
Break,  glorious  Brightness,  through  the  gloomy  veil, 

Look  how  the  armies  of  defpair 

Aloft  their  footy  banners  rear 

Round  my  poor  captive  foul,  and  dare 

Pronounce  me  prifoner  of  hell  ! 

But  thou,  my  Sun,  and  thou  my  Shield, 

Wilt  fave  me  in  the  bloody  field  ; 

Break, gloriousBfUGHTNEss.ihoot  one  glimm 'ring  ray; 
One  glance  of  thine  creates  a  day, 
And  drives  the  troops  of  hell  away. 
L  2 


ii4       LYRIC    POEMS,      Book! 
III. 

Happy  the  times  !   but,  ah  !   the  times  are  gone, 

When  wondrous  pow'r  and  radiant  grace 
Round  the  tall  arches  of  the  temple  /hone, 
And  mingled  their  victorious  rays. 
Sin,  with  all  its  ghaflly  train, 
Fled  to  the   deeps  of  death  again, 
And  fmiling  triumph  fat  on  ev'ry  face  : 
Our  fpirits,    raptur'd  with  the  fight, 
Were  all  devotion,  all  delight, 
And  loud  hofannas  founded   the  Redeemer's  praifc. 
Here  could  I  fay, 
(And  point  the  place  whereon  I  flood) 
H/cre.  I  enjoy'd  a  vifit  half  the  day 
From  my  defcending    God  : 
I  was  regal'd  with  heav'nly  fare, 
With  fruit  and  manna  from  above  ; 
Divinely  fweet  the  bleflings  were 
While  mine  Emanuel  was  there  : 
And  o'er  my  head 
The  Conqu'ror  fpread 
The  banner  of  his  love. 

IV. 

Then,  why  my  heart  funk  down  fo  low  i1 
Why  do  my  eyes  diffolve  and  flow, 

And  hopelcfs  nature  mourn  ? 
Review,  my  foul,  thofe  pleafing  days  ; 
Read  his  nnfilterable  grace 
Through  the  difpleafure  of  his  face, 

And  wait  a  kind  return. 
A  father's  love  may  raife  a  frown 
To  chide  the  child,   or  prove  the  fon, 

But  lovfwill    ne'er  deftroy  ; 

The  hour  of  darknefs  is  but  (hort, 

Faith  be  thy  life,  and  patience  thy  fupport* 

The  morning  brings  the  iov 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,  &C.  11$ 


COME,    LORD    JESUS. 

1. 

WHEN  fhall  thy  lovely  face  be  feen  ? 
When  (hall  our  eyes  behold  our  God? 
What  lengths  of  diftance  lie  between, 
And  hills  of  guilt.      A  heavy  load  ! 

II. 
Our  months  are  ages  of  delay, 
And  flowly  ev'ry  minute  wears. 
Fly,  winged  time,  and  roll  away 
Thefe  tedious  rounds  of  fluggifh  years, 

III. 
Ye  heav'nly  gates,  loofe  all  your  chains  5 
Let  the  eternal  pillars  bow  ! 
Bleft  Saviour,  cleave  the  ftarry  plains, 
And  make  the  cryftal  mountains  flow. 

IV. 
Hark,  how  thy  faints  unite  their  cries. 
And  pray  and  wait  the  general  doom  : 
Come,  thou,  the  soul  of  all  our  joys, 

ThoiJ,    THE   DESIRE    OF    NATIONS,    COBie. 

V. 

Put  thy  bright  robes  of  triumph  on, 
And  blefs  our  eyes,   and  blefs  our  ears, 
Thou  abfent  Love,  thou  dear  Unknown, 

Thoil    FAIREST    OF    TEN    THOUSAND    FAIRS. 

VI. 

Our  heart-firings  groan  with  deep  complaint  1 
Our  flefli  lies  panting,  Lord,  for  thee  ; 
And  ev'ry  limb,  and  ev'ry  joint, 
Stretches  for  immortality. 

VII. 
Our  fpirits  fliake  their  eager  wings, 
And  burn  to  meet  thy  flying  throne  ; 
We  rife  away  from  mortal  things 
T'attend  thy  fbining  chariot  down* 


n6       LYRIC    P  OEMS,       Book  I. 
vnr. 

Now  let  our  cheerful  eyes  furvey 
The  blazing  earth  and   melting  hills, 
And  fmile  to  fee  the  lightnings  play, 
And  flafli  along  before  thy  wheels. 

IX. 
O  for  a  fhont  of  vi'Jent  joys 
To  join  the  trumpet's  thnnd'ring  found  ! 
The  angel  herald  lhakes  the  fkies, 
Awakes  the  graves,  and  tears  the  ground. 

X. 
Ye  flumb'ring  faints,  a  heav'nly  holt 
Stands  waiting  at  your  gaping  tombs  : 
Let  ev'ry  facred  fleeping  chifc 
Leap  into  life,  for  JESUS  comes. 

XI. 
JESUS,  the  God  of  might  and  love, 
New  moulds  our  limbs  of  cumbrous  clay  ; 
Quick  as  feraphic  flames  we  move  ; 
Active,  and  voting,  and  fair,  as  they. 

XII. 
Our  airy  feet  with  unknown  flight, 
i^wift  as  the   motions  of  defire, 
Run  up  the  hills  of  heav'nly  light, 
And  leave  the  welt'ring  world  in  fire. 


BEWAILING    MY    OWN    INCONSTANCY. 
I. 

I    LOVE  the  Lord  ;  but,  ah  !   how  far 
My  thoughts  from  the  dear  object  arc  ! 
This  wanton  heart,  how  wide  it  roves, 
And  fancy  meets  a  thoufand  loves. 

II. 
If  my  foul  burn  to  fee  my  God, 
I  tread  the  courts  of  his  abode  ; 
But  troops  of  rivals  throng  the  place, 
And  tempt  me  off  before  hu  face. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,  &C.  tlj 

III. 
Would  I  enjoy  my  Lord  alone, 
I  bid  my  paffions  all  be  gone, 
All  but  my  love  ;  and  charge  my  will 
To  bar  the  door  and  guard  it  ftill. 

IV. 

But  cares  or  trifles  make  or  find 
Still  new  avenues  to  the  mind, 
Till  I  with  grief  and  wonder   fee 
Huge  crowds  betwixt  my  Lord  and  me, 

V. 

Oft   I  am  told  the  Mufe  will  prove 
A  friend  to  piety   and  love  ; 
Straight  I  begin  fome  facred  fong, 
And  take  my  Saviour  on  my  tongue. 

VI. 

Strangely  I  Iofe  his  lovely  face, 
To  hold  the  empty  founds  in   chafe  j 
At  bed  the  chimes  divide  my   heart, 
And  the  mufe  fliares  the  larger  part. 

VII. 

Falfe  confident  !   and  falfer  bread  ! 
Fickle,   and  fond  of  ev'ry  guell  : 
Each  airy  image,  as  it  flies, 
Here  finds  admittance  through  my  eyes. 

VIII. 
This  foolifh  heart  can  leave  her  Gqd, 
And  fliadows  tempt  her  thoughts  abroad  : 
How  (hall  I  fix  this  wand'ring  mind, 
Or  throw  my  fetters  on  the  wind  ? 

IX. 

Look  gently  down,   Almighty  Grace; 
Prifon  me  round  in  thine  embrace  ; 
Pity  the  foul  that  would  be  thine, 
And  let  thy  pow'r  my  love  confine,. 


nS        LTRIC    POEMS,      Book  I. 

X. 

Say,  when  (hall  that  bright  moment  be, 

That  I  fhall  live  alone  for  thee  ; 

My  heart  no  foreign  lords  adore, 

And  the   wild  Mufe  prove  falfe  no  more  ? 


FORSAKEN,    VET    HOPING. 

I. 
APPY  the  hours,  the  golden  days, 
When  I  could  call   my  JESUS  mine, 
And  fit  and  view  his  fmiling  face, 
And  melt  in  plcafure  all  divine. 

II. 
Near  to  my  heart,  within  my  arms, 
He  lay,  till  fin  defil'd  my  bread  ; 
Till  broken  vows  and  earthly  charms, 
Tir'd  and  provok'd  my  Heav'nly  Gueft. 

III. 
And  now  he's  gone  (O  mighty  woe  !) 
Gone  from  my  foul,    and  liides  his  love  ! 
Curfe  on  you,   fins,   that  griev'd  him    fo  ; 
Ye  fins  that  fore'd  him   to  remove. 

IV. 
Break,  break,  my  heart ;  complain,  my  tongue  ; 
Hither,  my  friends,  your  forrows  bring  : 
Angels,  affift  my  doleful  fong, 
If  you  have  e'er  a  mourning  firing. 

V. 
But,  ah  !   your  joys   are  ever  high  ; 
Ever  his  lovely  face  you  fee  : 
While  my  poor  fpirits  pant  and  die, 
And  groan  for  thee,  my  God,  for  thee  ! 

VI. 
Yet  let  my  hope  look  through  my  tears, 
And  fpy  afar  his  rolling  throne  ; 
His  chariot,  through  the  cleaving  fpheres, 
Shall  bring  the  bright  Belovkd  down. 


SACRED    TO    DEVOTION,   &C.  119 

VII. 

Swift  as  a  roe  flies  o'er  the  hills, 
My  foul  fprings  out  to  meet  him  high  ; 
Then  the  fair  Conqu'ror  turns  his  wheels, 
And  climbs  the  manfions  of  the  fky. 

VIII. 
There  fmiling  joy  for  ever  reigns  ; 
No  more  the  turtle  leaves  the  dove  ; 
Farewell  to  jealoufies  and  pains, 
And  all  the  ills  of  abfent  love. 


THE     CONCLUSION. 

GOD  EXALTED  ABOVE  ALL  PRAISE: 

I. 

ETERNAL  Pow'r!   whofe  high   abode 
Becomes  the  grandeur  of  a  God  ; 
Infinite  length  !   beyond  the  bounds 
Where  ftars  revolve  their  little  rounds. 

II. 
The  lowed  ftep  about  thy  feat 
Rifes  too  high  for  Gabriel's  feet  : 
In  vain  the  tall  archangel  tries 
To  reach  thy  height  with  wond'ring  eyes. 

III. 
Thy  dazzling  beauties  while  he  fings, 
He  hides  his  face  behind  his  wings  ; 
And  ranks  of  (hining  thrones  around 
Fall  worfhipping,  and  fpread  the  ground. 

IV. 
Lord,  what  lhall  earth  and  aflies  do  ? 
We  would  adore  our  Maker  too  ; 
From  fin  and  dull  to  thee  we  cry, 
•'  The  Great,  the  Holy,  and  the  High  !" 


V20       LTRIC    POEMS'.,.      Book  I , 
v. 

Earth  from   afar  has  heard  thy  fame, 
And  worms  have  ltarnt  to  lifp  thy  name  : 
But,  oh  !    the  glories  of  thy  mind 
Leave  all  our  (baring  thoughts  behind* 

VI. 

God  is  in  hcav'n,  and  men  below  ; 
Be  fhort,  our  tunes  ;  our  words  be  few  ; 
A  facred  rev'rence  checks  our  fongs, 
And  praife  fits  filent  on  our  tongurs. 


END    OF    THE    FIRST    BOOK. 


Ttbifilct  laus,  0  Deui.      Pfalm  lxv.   1, 


■  VWJ&&sSffl0&&4*** 


^,^kh£><>c>^%-0<«Sxx£>'^^><S>'>0-kS>^;>€xxS>'>0<^ 


HORil    LYRICS. 


BOOK      If. 

Sacred  to  VIRTUE,  HONOUR,  and 
FRIENDSHIP. 


\ 


TO     HER      MAJESTY. 

QUEEN  of  the  Northern  world,  whofe  gentle  fway 
Commands  our  love, and  charms  our  hearts  t'obey, 
Forgive  the  nation's  groan  when  WILLIAM  dy'd  : 
Lo,  at  thy  feet,  in  all  the  loyal  pride 
Of  blooming  joy,  three  happy  realms  appear, 
And  WILLIAM's  urn   almoit  without  a  tear 
Stands;  nor  complains;  while  from  thy  gracious  tongue 
Peace  flows  in  filver  dreams  amidfl    the  throng. 
Amazing  balm,  that  on   thofe  lips  was  found 
To  footh    the  torment  of  that  mortal  wound, 
And  calm  the  wild  affright  !   the  terror  dies,  ~\ 

The  bleeding  wound  cements,  the  danger  flies,       *- 
And  Albion  fhouts  thy  honour  as  her  joys  arife.  j 

The  German  Eagle  feels  her  guardian  dead  ; 
Not  her  own  thunder  can  fecure  her  head  ; 
Her  trembling  eaglets  haRen  from  afar, 
And  Belgians  lion  dread?  the  Gallic  war  : 
M 


1 


i22      LYRIC   POEMS,     Bookll. 

All  hide  behind  thy  (hteld.      Remoter  lands, 
Whofc  lives  lay  trullcd  in  NufFauvian   hands, 
Transfer  their  fouls,  and  live  ;   fecure  they  play 
In  thy  mild   rays,  and  love  the  growing  day. 

Thy  beamy  wing  at  once  defends  and  warms 
Fainting  rtligion,  while,  in   various  forms, 
Fair  piety  fhincs  thtough  tht  Biitilb  ifles  : 
Here,  at  thy  fide,  and  in  thy  kiudell  fmiles*, 
Blazing    in   ornamental  gold  Hie  (lands, 
To  bltls  thy  councils  and   afiill  thy  hands  ; 
And  crowds  wait  round  her  to  receive  commands 
There,  at  a  humble  diftance  from  the  thronef, 
Beauteous  fhe  lies  ;   her  lullre  all  her  own, 
Ungarnifli'd  ;   yet  not  blufhing,  nor  afraid, 
Nor  knows  fufpicion,    nor  affedts  the  made  : 
Cheerful  and  pleab'd,  (he  not  prefumes  to   fhare 
In  thy  parental  gifts,  but  owns  thy  guardian  care. 
For  thee,   dear  iov'reign,  endlefs  vows  arife, 
And  zeal,  with  early  wing,  falutes  the  flcies 
To  gain  thy  fafety.      Here,  a    folemn  form* 
Of  ancient  words  keeps  the  devotion  warm, 
And  guides,  but  bounds  our  wifhss  :    There,  the  mindf 
Feels  its  own  fire,    and  kindles  unconfin'd 
With  bolder  hopes  :   yet  ftill  beyond  our  vows 
Thy  lovely  glories  rife,    thy  fpreading  terror  grows. 

Princess,  the"  world  already  owns  thy  name  ; 
Go,  mount  the  chariot  of  immortal  fame, 
Nor  die  to  be  renown'd  :   fame's  loudeft  breath 
Too  dear  is  purchas'd  by  an  angel's  death. 
The  vengeance  of  thy  rod,  with  gen'ral  joy, 
fihall  fcourgc  rebellion  and  the  rival  boy  J  :- 

*  The  ejlabllflxd  Church  of  England. 
f  The  Prottflant  Djfenters. 

+  Tie  Pretender. 


\ 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C  12^ 

Thy  founding  arms  his  Gallic   patron  heais, 

And  fpetds  his  flight,   nor  overtakes  his  fears, 

Till  hard   defpair  wring  from    the    tyrant's  foul 

The  iron  tears  out.      Let  thy  frown  controul 

Our  angry  jars  at  home,  till  wrath  fubmit 

Her  impious  banners  to  thy  facred   feet. 

Mad  zeal  and  phrenzy,   with  their  rourd'rous  train,  1 

Flee  thefe  fwcet  realms  in  thine  aufpicious  reign  ;       > 

Envv  txpire  in  rage,  and  treafon  bite  the  chain.       J 


i 


ige 

Let  no  black  fcenes  affright  fair  Albion's  ftage  : 
Thy  thread  of  life   prolong  our  golden  age  : 
Long  blefs  the  earth,   and  late  afcend  thy  throne 
Ethereal  ;    (not  thy  deeds  are  there  unknown, 
Nor  there  unfung  ;    for  by  thine  awful  hands 
Heav'n  rules  the  waves,  and  thunders  o'er  the  lands, 
C  i  eat  es  infe  r  io  r  ki  rigs  $, and  gives 'em  their  commands.) 
Legions  attend  thee  at   the   radiant   gates  : 
For  thee  thy  Gfttr-fcraph,  bled  MARIA,   waits. 

But,  oh  !    the  parting  ftroke  !  fome  heav'nly  power 

Cheer  thy  fad  Britons  in  the  gloomy   hour  1 

Some  new  propitious   ftar  appear  on  high, 

The  faireil  glory  of  the    weftern  flcy, 

And  ANNA  be  its  name  ;  with  gentle  fway, 

To  check  the  planets  of  malignant  ray, 

Sooth  the  rude  north  wind  and  the  rugged   bear,      ^ 

Calm  rifing  wars,  he-al  the  contagious  air,      [fphere.  > 

And  reign  with  peaceful  influence  to  the  foutbernj: 

§  She   made    Charles  the   Emperor's  fecond  fen    King  of 
Spain,   'who  is  now  Emperor  of  Germany. 


Note — This  Poem  was  written  in  the  year  1 705,  in  that 
honourable  part  of  the  reign  of  our  late  Queen,  whenjhe 
had  broken  the  French  power  at  Blenheim,  afferled  the 
right  of  Charles  the  prefent  Emperor  to  the  crown  of 
Spain,  exerted  her  zeal  for  the  Protejant  Succe/Jion,  and 


1 24       LYRIC   POEMS,      Book  II. 

promifed  inviolably  to  maintain  the  Toleration  to  the 
Proteflant  Diffiniers.  Thus  fie  appeared  the  Chief  Sup- 
port of  the  Reformation,  and  the  Patronefs  of  the  Liber- 
ties of  Europe. 
The  latter  part  of  her  reign  was  of  a  different  colour  ; 
and  mas  ly  no  means  attended  with  the  aceomp/i/hment  of 
ihofe  glorious  hopes  which  we  had  conceived.  Now  the 
JMitfc  cannot  jatisfy  herfelf  to  publijl)  this  new  Edition, 
without  acknowledging  the  miflale  of  her  former  pre- 
fages  ;  and,  while  [he  does  the  world  this  jtf}ice,fhe  does 
herfelf  the  honour  of  a  voluntary  retraction, 

Auguft  I,    1 72  I. 


P  A  L  I  N  O  D  I  A. 

RITONS,  forgive  the  forward  Mufe^ 
That  dar'd  prophetic  feals  to  loofe, 
(Unfkili'd  in  fate's  eternal  book) 
And  the  deep  characters   millook. 

GEORGE  is  the  name,  that  glorious  flat- 
Ye  faw  his  fplcndors  beamtng  far  : 
Saw  in  the  eaft  your  joys  arife, 
When  ANNA  funk  in  wellern  fkics, 
Streaking  the  heav'ns  with  ciimfon  gloom,! 
Emblems   of  tyranny  and  Rome,  > 

Portending  blood  and  night  to  come.  J 

'Twas  GEORGE  diffus'd  a  vital  ray, 
And  gave  the  dying  nations  day  : 
His  influence  foothes  the  Ruffian   bear, 
Calms  riling  wars,  and  heals  the  air  : 
Join'd  with  the  fun,  his  beams  are  hurl'tl 
To  fcatterbleflings  round  the  world  ; 
Fulfil  whate'er  the  Mufe  has  fpoke, 
And  crown  the  work  that  ANNE  forfook, 

Aagufl  1,    1.72  1. 


► 


3ACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  125 


TO      JOHN     LOCKE,      ESQ^ 

RETIRED    JROU    BUSINESS. 


ANGELS  are  made  of  heav'nly  tilings, 
And  light  and  love  our  fouls  compofe  ; 
Their  blifs  within  their  bofom   fprings  ; 

Within,    their  bofom  flows. 
But  narrow  minds  ftill   make  pretence 
To  fearch  the  coafts  of  fle/h  and    fenfe, 
And  fetch  diviner  pleafures  thence. 
Men  are  a- kin  to  ethereal   forms  ; 
But  they  belie   their  nobler  birth, 
Debafe  their  honours  down   to  earth, 
And   claim  a  fliare  with  worms. 

II. 

He  that  has  treafures  of  his  own, 
May  leave  the  cottage  or  the  throne  j 
May  quit  the  globe,  and  dwell  alone 

Within   his  fpacious  mind. 
LOCKE  hath  a  foul  wide  as  the  fea, 
Calm  as  the  night,  bright  as  the  day  : 
There  may  his  vaft  ideas  play, 

Nor  feel  a  thought  connVd. 


Ms 


i,26       LTRIC    POEMS,     Book  IL 

TO     JOHN      SHUTE,     ESQ.. 
(Now  Lord   Barrington.) 

on  mr.  locke's  dangerous  sickness^ 

SOMETIME    AFTER     HE     HAD    RETIRED 
TO    STUD/    THE    SCRIPTURES. 

June,   1704.. 

I. 

AND  muft  the  man  of  wondrous  mind 
(Now  his  rich  thoughts  are  juft  refiVd) 
Forfake  our  longing  eyes  ? 
Reafon  at  length  fubmits  to  wear 
The  wings  of  Faith  ;  and,  lo,  they  rear 
Htr  chariot  high,   and  nobly  bear 
Her  prophet  to  the  fkies. 

II. 

Go,  friend,  snd  wait  the  prophet's  flight  j 
Watch  if  his  mantle  chance  to  light,, 

And  feize  it  for  thy  own. 
SHUTE  is  the  darling  of  his  years  ; 
Young  Shute  his   better  likenefs  bears  : 
All  but  his  wrinkles  and  his  hairs 

Arc  copy'd  in    his  fon. 

III. 
Thus,  when  our  follies  or  our  faults 
Call  for  the  pity  of  thy  thoughts, 

Thy  pen  fnall  make  us  wife  : 
The  fallits   of  whofc  youthful   wit 
Could  pierce  the  Britifh  fogs  with  light, 
Place  our  true  int'reft*  in  our  fight, 

And  open  half  our  eyes. 

*  Ths  Inter ejl  of  England,  written  .by  J.  S.  Efq. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    SfC.  '2'' 

TO    MR.    WILLIAM    NOKES, 

FRIENDSHIP. 

iyoz, 

I. 

FRIENDSHIP,  thou  charmer  of  the  mind, 
Thou  fweet  deluding   il!  ; 
The  brighteft  minute  mortals  find, 
And  iharpeft  hour  we  feel. 

II. 

Fate  has   divided  all   our  mares 

Of  pleafure  and  of  pain  : 
In  love  the  comforts  and  the  cares 

Are  mix'd  and  join'd  again. 

III. 

But,  while  in  floods  our  forrow  rolls, 

And  drops  of  joy  are  few, 
This  dear  delight  of  mingling  fouls 

Serves   but  to  fwell  our  woe. 

IV. 

Oh  !   why  mould  blifs  depart  in  hailCj, 

And  friendfhip  ftay  to  moan  ? 
Why  the  fond  paflion  cling  fo  faft, 

When  ev'ry  joy  is  gone  ? 

V. 

Yet  never  let  our  hearts  divide, 

Nor  death  difiolve  the  chain  : 
For  love  and  joy  were  once  ally'd> 

And  muft  be  join'd  again. 


n%       LT.R1C    POEMS,    BookIL 


TO     NATHANAEL     GOULD,     E  S  Q^. 

(Now  Sir  Nathanael  Gouj^d.) 


1704. 


>r  I  *  IS  not  by  fplendour,  or  by  Mate, 
f<       Exalted  mien,   or  lofty  gait, 

My  mufe   takes  meafure  of  a  king  : 
If  wealth,  or  height,    or  bulk  will  do, 

She  calls  each  mountain  of  Peru 
A  more  majeilic   thing. 

Frown  on   me,   friend,   if  e'er  I  boaffc 

O'er  fellow-minds  tnflav'd  in  clay, 

Or  fwell   when  I  (hall  have   engrofs'd 

A  larger  heap   of  fhining  duft, 
And  wear  a  bigger   load  of  earth  than  they. 

JLet  the  vain  world  falute  me  loud  ; 

My  thoughts  look  inward,  and  forget 
The  founding  names  of  High  and  Great, 
Ths  flatteries  of  the  crowd. 

II. 
When  GOULD  commands  his  fhips  to  run 
And  fearch  the  traffic k  of  the  fea, 
His  fleet  o'ertakes  the  falling  day, 
And  bears  the    weftern  mines  away, 
Or  richer  fpices  from  the  rifing    fun  : 
While  the  glad  tenants  of  the   fhore 
Shout,  and  pronounce  him    fenator*, 

Yet  Mill  the  man's  the  fame  : 
For  well  the  happy  merchant  knows 
The  foul  with  treafure  never  grows, 

Nor  fwells  with  airy  fame. 

*  Member  of  Parliament  for  a  port  in  Suffix* 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &iC.  \L) 

III. 

But  truft  me,  GOULD,  'tis  lawful  pride 
Tu  rife    above  the.  mean  controol 
Of  flefh  and  fenfe,  to  which  we're  ty'd  : 
This  is  ambition  that   becomes  a  foul. 

We  fteer  our  courfe  up  through  the  fkics ; 
Farewell  this   barren  land  ; 
We  ken  the  heav'nly   fhore  with  longing  eyes  ; 
There  the  dear  wealth  of  fpiriis  lies, 
And  beck'ning  angels  iland. 


TO     DR.     THOMAS     GIBSON". 
THE   LIFE   OF  SOULS, 


I. 
"O  WIFT  as  the  fun  revolves  the  day, 
O    We  haften  to  the  dead  ; 
Slaves  to  the  wind  we  puff  away, 

And  to  the    ground  we  tread. 
'Tid  air  that  lends  us  life,  when  firft 

The  vital  bellows  heave  : 
Our  flefh  we  borrow  of  the  dufi  : 
And  when  a  mother's  care  has  nurs'd 
The  babe  to  manly  fize,    we  mult 

With  us'ry  pay  the   grave. 

II. 
Rich  juleps,  drawn  from  precious  or?, 

Still  tend  the  dying  flame  : 
And   plants  and  roots,  of  barbarous  name* 

Torn  fro^n  the  Indian  fhare. 


13*       LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 

Thus  we  fupport  our  tott'u'ng  flefh  ; 

Our  cheeks  refume  the  rofe  afrefh  ; 
When  bark  and  fteel  play  well  their  game, 

To  fave  our  finking  breath. 
And  GIBSON,  with  his  awful  pow'r, 
Refcues  the   poor   precarious   hour 

From  the  demands  of  death. 

III. 

But  art  and  nature,  pow'rs  and  charms, 
And  drugs,  and  recipes,   and  forms, 
Yield  us  at  la  ft  to  greedy    worms 

A  defpicable   prey  : 
I'd  hasre  a  life  to  call  my  own, 
That  mall  depend  on  hc3v'n  alone  ; 

Nor  air,   nor  earth,   nor  fea, 
Mix  their  bafe   effences  with  mine, 
Nor  claim  dominion  fo  divine 

To  give  me  leave  to  be.     t 

IV. 

Sure,  there's  a  mind  within,  that  reigns 
O'er  the  dull  current  of  my  veins  : 
I  feel  the  inward  pulfe  beat  high 
With  vig'rous  immortality. 
Let  earth  refume  the  flefh  it  gave, 
And  breath  diffolve  among  the   winds  ; 
GIBSON,  the  things  that  fear  a  grave, 
That  I  can  lofe  or  you  can    favc, 
Are  not  akin  to  minds. 

V. 

We  claim  acquaintance  with  the  fkies  ; 
Upward  our   fpirits  hourly  rife, 

And  there  our  thoughts  employ. 
When    heav'n  fhall  fign  our  grand  releafe, 
We  are  no  (hangers  to  the  place, 

The  bus'nefs,  or  the  joy. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &X.  Ijl 


FALSE      GREATNESS. 

I. 

MYLO,   forbear  to  call  him  blefs'd 
That  only   boalls  a  large   eilate, 
Should  all  the  treafures  of  the  weft 
Meet,    and  confpire  to  make  him  great. 
I  know  thy  better  thoughts  ;    I  know 
Thy  reafon   can't   defcend    fo  lbw. 
Let  a  broad  Itrtam   with  golden  fands 

Through  all  his  meadows  roll, 
He's  but  a  wretch,  with  all  hi*6  lands, 

That  wears  a  narrow   foul. 
II. 
He  fwells  amidft  his    wealthy  ftore, 
And,  proudly   poizing  what  he  weighs, 
In  his  own  fcale   he   fondly   lays 

Huge  heaps  of  fhiuing  ore. 
He  fpreads  the  balance  wide,  to  hold 

His  manors  and   his  farms, 
And  cheats  the  beam  with  loads  of  gold 

He  hugs  between  his  arms. 
So   might  the  plough-boy  ciimb  a  tree, 

When  Crcefus  mounts  his  throne, 
And  both  ftard  up,    and  fmile  to  fee 

How  long  their  fhadow's   grown. 
Alas  !    how'  vain  their  fancies  be, 

To  think  that  ftiape  their  own  ! 
III. 
Thus,   mingled  ftill  with  wealth  and  ftate, 
Crcefus  himfclf  can  never    know  ; 
His  true   dimeufions  and   his  weight 
Are  far   inferior  to  theii    (Imw. 
Were  I  fo  tall  to   icach  the  pole, 
Or  grafp   the  ocean  with  my  fpan, 
I  mull  be  meafui'd  by  my  foul  : 
The  mind's  the  ftandard  of  the  man. 


1&       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

TO      S  A  R  I  S  S  A. 
AN      EPISTLE. 

EAR  up,  SARISSA,  through  the  ruffling  dorms 
Of  a  vain  vexing  world  :    Tread  down  the  cares, 
Thofe  rugged  thorns  that  lie  acrofs  the  road, 
Nor  fpend  a  tear  upon  them.     Truft  the  Mufe  ; 
She  fings  experienc'd  truth  :   This  briny  dew, 
This  rain  of  eyes,    will  make  the  briers  grow. 
We  travel  through  a  defert,  and  our  feet 
Have  meafur'd  a  fair  fpace  ;  have  left  behind 
A  thoufand  dangers,  and  a  thoufand  fnares 
Well  'fcap'd.     Adieu  ye  horrors  of  the  dark, 
Ye  finifh'd  labours,  and  yet  tedious  toils 
Of  days  and  hours  :    The  twinge  of  real  fmart, 
And  the  falfe  tenors  of  ill-boding  dreams, 
Vanifli  together  ;    be  alike  forgot  ; 
For  ever  blended  in  one  common  grave. 

Farewell,  ye  waxing  and  ye  waning  moons, 
That  we  have  watch'd  behind  the  flying  clouds, 
On  night's  dark  hill,  or  fetting  or  afcending, 
Or  in  meridian  heignt  :   Then  filence  reign'd 
O'er  half  the  world  ;    then  ye  beheld  our  tears  ; 
Ye  witnefs'd  our  complaints,  our  kindred  groans, 
(Sad  harmony  !)   while  with  your  beamy  horns 
Or  richer  orb  ye  filver'd  o'er  the  green 
Where  trod  our  feet,  and  lent  a  feeble  light 
To  mourners.      Now  ye  have  fulfill'd  your  rotuid  ; 
Thofe  hours  arc  fled  :   farewell.     Months  that  are  gone 
Are  gone  for  ever,  and  have  borne  away 
Each  his  own  load.     Our  woes  and  forrowspaft, 
Mountainous  woes,   (till  leflen  as  they  fly 
Far  off.      So  billows,   in  a  ftormy  fea, 
Wave  after  wave  (a  long  fuccefllon)   roll 
Beyond  the  ken  of  fight  :   The  failors,  fafe, 
Look  far  a-ftern  till  they  have  lofl  the  ftorm, 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  I33 

And  fhout  their  boitlerous  joys.      A  gentler  Mufe 
Sings  thy  dear  fafety,  and  commands  thy  cares 
To  dark  oblivion,  bury'd  deep  in   night  ! 
Lofe  them,  SARISSA,  and  aflift  my  fong. 

Awake  thy  voice,   fing  how  the  flender  line 
Of  fate's  immortal  NOW  divides  the  pad 
From  all  the  future,   with  eternal  bars, 
Forbidding  a  return.      The  pad  temptations 
No  more  fliall  vex  ns  ;  every  grief  we  feel 
Shortens  the  deftin'd  number  ;  every  pulfc 
Beats  a  fharp  moment  of  the  pain  away, 
And  the  laft  flroke  will  come.     By  fwift  degrees 
Time  fweeps  us  off;  and  we  mail  foon    arrive 
At  life's  fweet  period.      O  celeftial  point, 
That  ends  this  mortal  ftory  ! 

But,  if  a  glimpfe  of  light,  with  flatt'ring  ray, 
Breaks    through  the    clouds  of  life,  or  wand'ring  fire 
Amidfl  the  (hades,   invites  your  doubtful  feet, 
Beware  the  dancing  meteor  ;  faithlefs  guide, 
That  leads  the  lonefome  pilgrim  wrde  aftray, 
To  bogs,  and  fens,  and  pits,   and   certain  death  ! 
Should  ricious  pleafure  take  an  angel-form, 
And  at  a  diftance  rife,   by  flow  degrees, 
Treacherous,  to  wind  herfelf  into  your  heart, 
Stand  firm  aloof  ;   nor  let  the  gaudy  phantom 
Too  long  allure   your   gaze  :   The  juft  delight 
That  heav'n  indulges,   lawful,  muft  obey 
Superior  pow'rs  ;  nor  tempt  your  thoughts  too  far 
In  flav'ry  to  fenfe,  nor  fwell  your  hope 
To  dang'rous  fize.      If  it  approach  your  feet 
And  court  your  hand,    forbid  th'intruding  joy 
To  fit  too  near  your  heart  :   Still  may  our  fouls 
Claim  kindred    with   the  ikies,   nor  mix  with  duft 
Our  better-born  affections;  leave  the  globe 
A  neft  for  worms,  and  haften  to  our  home. 
N 


ij4       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

O  there  are  gardens  of  th'immortal  kind, 
That  crown  the   heav'nly  Eden's  rifing  hills 
With  beauty  and   with  fweets  :    no  luiking  mifchief 
Dwells  in  the  fruit,    nor  fcipent  twines  the  boughs  ; 
The  branches  bend,   laden  with    life   and  blifs, 
Ripe  for  the  talte  ;   but  'tis  a  ftcep  afcent. 
Hold  fait  the  *  golden  chain  let  down  from  heav'n  ; 
'Twill  help  your  feet  and  wings:    I  feel  its  force 
Draw  upwards  ;   falten'd  to  the  pearly  gate, 
It  guides  the  way    unerring.      Happly   clue 
Thro'  this  daiK  wild  !     '  Twas  wifdom's  nobleft  work 
All  join'd  by  pow'r  divine,  and  every  link  is  love. 


TO     MR.     T.     BRADBURY. 

PARADISE. 


I. 


1708. 


YOUNG  as  I  am,   I  quit  the  flage, 
Nor  will  I  know  th'applaufes  of  the  age  ; 
Farewell  to  growing  fame.      I  leave  below 
A  life  not  half  worn  out  with  cares, 

Or  agonies,  or  years  : 
I  leave   my  country  all  in  tears  ; 
But  heav'n  demands  me  upward,  and  I  dare  to  go. 
Among  ye,   friends,    divide  and   fhare 

The  remnant  of  my  days, 
If  ye  have  patience,  and  can  bear 
A  long  fatigue  of  life,  and  drudge  through  all  the  race. 

Hark,  my  fair  guardian  chides  my  ftay, 

And  waves  his  golden  rod  : 
"  Angel,  I  come  ;  lead  on  the  way  :" 
And  now,  by  fwift  degrees, 
I  fail  aloft,   through  azure  feas. 

New  tread  the  milky  road  : 

*  The  Co/pel. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  IJj 

Farewell,   ye  planets,    in  your  fpheres  ; 
And,  as  the  (tars  are  loft,  a  brighter  fky  appeais. 

In   hade  for  paradife 
I  dretch  the  pinions  of  a  bolder   thought  ; 

Scarce  had  I  will'd,   but   I   was  pad 
Deferts  of  tracklefs  light  and  all  th'ethereal  wade, 

And  to  the  facred  borders   brought  ; 
There,  on  the  wing,   a  guard  of  cherubs  lies  ; 

Each  waves  a  keen  flame  as  he  flie3, 
And  well  defends  the  walls  from  fieges  and  furprifc. 

III. 

With   pleating  rev'rence  I  behold 
The  pearly   portals  wide  unfold  : 
Enter,   my  foul,  and  view  th'amazing  fcenes  ; 
Sit  fall  upon  the  flying  Muff, 

And  let  thy  roving  wonder  loofe 
O'er  all  th'empyreal   plains. 
Noon  (lands  eternal  here  :    Here  may  thy  fight 
Drink  in  the  rays  of  primogenial  light  ; 
Here  breathe  immortal  air. 
Joy  mud  beat  high  in  ev'ry   vein, 
Pleafure  through  all  thy   bofom  reign  j 
The  laws  forbid  the  (tranger,  Pain, 
And  banifli  ev'ry  care. 

IV. 

See  how  the  bubbling  fprings  of  love. 

Beneath  the  throne  arife  ; 
The  dreams  in  cryrlal  channels  move  ; 
Around  the  golden  ftreets  they   rove, 
And  blefs  the  manfions  of  the  upper  fkies, 

There  a  fair  grove  of  knowledge  grows  ; 
Nor  fin  nor  death  infecls   the  fruit  ; 
Young  life  hangs  fiefh  on  all  the  boughs, 

And  fprings  from   ev'ry  root. 
Here  may  thy  greedy  fenfes  feaft, 
While  ccftacy  and  health  attend  on  ev'ry  tafte. 


136       LYRIC  POEMS,    Book  IL 

With  the  fair  profpcft  charm'd  I  flood  ; 
Fearlefs  I  feed  on  the   delicious  fare, 
And  drink  profufe  falvation  from  the  filver  flood  }. 
Nor  can  excefs  be  there. 
V. 
In  facred  order,   rang'd  along, 

Saints  new-releas'd  by  death 
Join  the  bold  feraph's  warbling  breath, 

And  aid  th'immortal  fong. 
Each  has  a  voice  that  tunes  his  firings 
To  mighty  founds   and  mighty  things  j 

Things  of  everlafting  weight  j 
Sounds,  like  the  fofc«r  viol,  fvveet, 
And,  like  the  trumpet,  ilrong. 
Divine  attention  held  my  foul  ; 
I  was  all  ear  ! 
Through  all  my  pow'rs  the  heavenly  accents  roll, 
I  long'd  and  wiih'd  my  BRADBURY  there  j 
"  Could  he  but  hear  thefe  notes,"  I  faid, 
"  His  tuneful  foul  would  never  bear 
"  The  dull  unwinding  of  life's   tedious  thread, 
"  But  burfl  the  vital  chords  to  reach  the  happy  dead-" 
VI. 
And  now  my  tongue   prepares  to  join 
The   harmony,  and,  with  a  noble  aim, 

Attempts  the  unutterable  name, 
But  faints,  confounded  by   the  notes  divine. 
Again  my  foul  th'unequal  honour  fought  ; 

Again  her  utmofl  force  fhe  brought, 
And  bow'd  beneath  the  burden  of  th'unwieldy  thought. 

Thrice  I  effay'd,  and  fainted  thrice  : 
Th'immortal  labour  (Irain'd  my  feeble  frame  ; 
Broke  the  bright  vifion,  and  diffolv'd  the  dream. 
I  funk  at  once,   and  loft  the  flues  : 
In  vain  I  fought  the  fcenes  of  light, 
Rolling  abroad   my  longing  eyes  ; 
For  all.  around'em  flood  my  curtains  and  the  night. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  I  if 


STRICT    RELIGION    VERY    RARE. 

I. 

I'M  borne  aloft,  and  leave  the  crowd  ; 
I  fail  upon  a   morning  cloud, 
Skirted  with  dawning  gold  : 
Mine  cyts,  beneath  the  op'ning  day, 
Commands  the  globe  with  wide  fuivey, 
Where  ants  in   bufy    millions  play, 
And  tug  and  heave  the  mould. 

u. 

"  Are  thefe  the  things,"  my  paffion  cry'd, 
"  That  we  call  men  ?   Are  thefe  ally'd 

"  To  the  fair  worlds  of  light  ? 
"  They  have  ras'd  out  their  Maker's  name, 
"  Grav'n  on  their  minds  with  pointed  flame 

"  In  ftrokes  divinely  bright. 

iik 

"  Wretches  !  thty  hate  their  native  fide* 
11  If  an  ethereal  thought  arife, 

"   Or  fpark  of  virtue  fhine, 
'*  With  cruel  force  they  damp  its  plumes, 
*'  Choke  the  young  fire  with  fenfual  ftimec, 

"  With  bus'nefs,  luft,  or  wine. 

IV. 
"  Lo  !   how  they  throng,  with  panting  breath, 

The  broad  defcending  road 
11  That  leads  unerring  down  to  death  j  . 

"  Nor  mifs  the  dark  abode." 
Thus,  while  I  drop  a  tear  or  two 
On  the  wild  herd,    a    noble   £<:\v 
Dare  to  ftray  upward,  and  purfue 

Th'unbeaten  way  to  God. 

N2 


j  3'3        LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  IL 

V. 

I  met  Myrtillo  mounting  high  : 
I  knew  his  candid  foul  afar. 
Here  Doryltis  and  Thyrfis  fly, 

Each  like  a   riling  ftar. 
Charin  I  faw  and   Fidea  there  : 
I  faw  them  help  each  other's   flight, 

And  blefs  them  as  they  go  : 
They  foar  beyond  my  lab'ring  fight, 
And  leave  their  loads  of  mortal  care, 

But  not  their  love  below. 
On  hcav'n,  their  home,  they  fix  their  eyes, 

The  temple  of  their  God  : 
With  morning  incenfe  up  they  rife 
oublime,  and  through  the  lower  fkies 

Spread  the  perfumes  abroad. 

VI. 

Acrofs  the  road  a  feraph  flew  : 

"  Mark,  "  faid  he,  "  that  happy  pair  : 

"  Marriage  helps  devotion  there. 

"  When  kindred  minds  their  God  purfue, 

"  They  break,  with  double  vigour,  through 

"  The  dull  incumbent  air." 
Charm'd  with  the  pleafure  and  furprize, 

My  foul  adores  and  fings, 
0  Blefs'd  be  the  Pow'r  that  fprings  their  flight, 
"  That  ftreaks  their  path  with  heav'nly  light, 
"  That  turns  their  love  to  facrifice, 
t(  And  joins  their  zeal  for  wings." 


<*1 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &TC.  I JJ 


TO    MR.    C.    AND    S.    FLEETWOOD, 

I. 

FLEETWOODS,  young  gen'rous  pair, 
Defpife  the  joys  that  fools  purfue  : 
Bubbles  are  light  and  brittle  too  ; 
Born  of  the  water  and  the  air. 

Try'd  by  a  ftandard  bold  and  juft, 
Honour  and  gold  are  paint  and  dull. 
How  vile  the  laft  is,  and  as  vain  the  firft  ! 

Things  that  the  crowd  call  great  and  brave^ 
With  me  how  low  their  value's  brought  ! 
Titles  and  names,  and  life  and  breath, 
Slaves  to  the  wind,  and  born  for  death  ; 
The  foul's  the  only  thing  we  have 
Worth  an  important  thought. 

II. 

The  foul  !    'tis  of  th'immortal  kind; 

Not  form'd  of  fire,  or  earth,  or  wind,        [behind, 
Outlives  the  mould'iing  corpfe,  and  leaves  the  globe 

In  limbs  of  clay  though  me  appears, 
Array'd  in  rofy  fkin,  and  deck'd  with  ears  and  eyes, 

The  flefh  is  but  the  foul's  difgaife  ; 
There's  nothing  in  her  frame  'kin  to  the  drefs  fire  wear?, 

From  all  the  laws  of  matter  free  ; 

From  all  we  feel,  and  all  we  fee, 
She  ftands  eternally  diftinft,  and  mud  forever  be* 

III. 
Rife,  then,   my  thoughts,  on  high  ; 
Soar  beyond  all  that's  made  to  die  ; 
Lo  !   on  an  awful  throne 
Sits  the  Creator  and  the  Judge  of  fouls, 

Whirling  the  planets  round  the  poles  ; 
Winds  off  our  threads  of  life,  and  brings  our  periods  on. 


140       LTRIC   POEMS,    Book  II. 

Swift  the  approach,  and  folemn  is  the  day, 

When  this  immortal   mind, 

Stript  of  the  body's  coarfe  array, 

To  cndlcfs  pain,  or  endlefs  jr\y, 
Mull  be  at  once  confign'd. 
IV. 

Think  of  the  fands  run  down  to  wafle  : 

We  poffefs  none  of  all  the  part  ; 

None  but  the  prefent  is  our  own. 

Grace  is  not   plac'd  within   our  pow'r  ; 

'Tis  but  one  (hort,  one  mining  hour, 
Bright  and   declining  as  a  fet'ting   fun. 

See  the  white  minutes  wing'd  with  hade  ; 

The  NOW  that   flits  may  be  the  lall  ; 

Seize  the  falvati-on  ere   'tis  part, 
Nor  mourn  ihc  bleffing  gone  : 

A  thought's  delay  is  ruin  here  : 

A  clofing  eye,  a  gafping  breath, 

Shuts  up  the  golden  fcene  in  death, 
And  drowns  you  in  defpair. 


TO     WILLIAM     BLACKBOURN,    ESQ^ 
CASIMIR,    LIB.    II.    OD.   2.    IMITATED. 

^u<s  teg'it  canas  modo  Iruma   valles,    &c. 

I. 

MARK  how  it  fnows  !  how  fad  the  valley  fills  j 
And  the  fweet  groves  the  hoary  garment  wear  ; 
Yet  the  warm  fun- beams,  bounding  from  the  hills, 
Shall  melt  the  veil  away,  and  the  young  green  appear. 

II. 
E'it  when  old  age  has  on  your  temples  (Tied 
Her  filver  froft,  there's  no  returning  fun  ; 
Swift  fli  s  our  autumn,  fwift  our  fummer's  fled, 
When  youth,  and  loye,  and  fpring,  and  golden  joys' 
are  gone. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  14* 

III. 
Then  cold,  and  winter,  and  your  aged  (now, 
Stick  faft  upon  you  ;   not  the  rich  array, 
Not  the  green  garland,  nor  the  rofy  bough, 
Shall  cancel  or  conceal  the  melancholy  grey. 

IV. 
The  chafe  of  pleafures  is  not  worth  the  pains, 
While  the  bright  fands  of  health  run  watting  down  ; 
And  honour  calls  you,  from  the  fofter  fcenes, 
To  fell  the  gaudy  hour  for  ages  of  renown. 

V. 

'Tis  but  one  youth,  and  fhort,  that  mortals  have  ; 
And   one  old  age  diflolves  our  feeble  frame  : 
But  there's  a  heav'nly  art  t'elude  the  grave  ; 
And  with  the  hero-race  immortal  kindred  claim. 

VI. 

The  man  that  has  his  country's  facred  tears 
Bedewing  his  cold  hearfe,  has  liv'd  his  day  : 
Thus,  BLACK  BOURN,  we  fhould  leave  our  names 

our  heirs ; 
Old   Time  and  waning  moons  fweep  all  the  red  away. 


TRUE      MONARCHY. 

THE  rifing  year  beheld  th'imperious  Gaul 
Stretch  his  dominion,  while  an  hundred  towns 
Crouch'd  to  the  vidtor  :    but  a  fteady  foul 
Stands  firm  on  its  own  bafe,  and  reigns  as  wide 
As  abfolute  ;   and  fways  ten  thoufand  flaves, 
Lulls,  and  wild  fancies  with  a  fov'reign  hand. 

We  are  a  little  kingdom  ;   but  the  man 
That  chains  his  rebel-will  to  reafon's  throne, 
Forms  it  a  large  one,   whilft  his  royal  mind 
Makes  heav'n  its  counfel  ;   from  the  rolls  above 
Draws  his  own  ftatutes,  and  with  joy  obeys. 


142       LTRIC   POEMS,     Book  II, 

'Tis  not  a  troop  of  well-appointed  guards 
Create  a  monarch  ;    not   a  purple  robe 
Dy'd  in  the  people's  blood  ;   not  all  the  crowns 
Or  dazzling  tiars  that  bend   about  thethead, 
Though  gilt  with  fun-beams,  and  fet  round  with  ftai'S. 
A  monarch  he  that   conquers  all   his  fears, 
And  treads  upon  them  :    when  he  Hands  alone 
Makes  his  own   camp  ;    four  guardian  virtues  wait 
His  nightly  {lumbers,   and  fecurr   his  dreams. 
Now  dawns  the  light  ;   he  ranges  all  his  thoughts 
In  fquare  battalions,    bold  to  meet  th'attacks 
Of  time  and  chance  ;    himfelf  a  num'rous  hoft, 
All  eye,   all  ear,   all   wakeful  a3  the  day, 
Firm  as  a  rock,   and  movelefs  as  the  centre. 

In  vain  the  hailot,  Pleafure,  fpreads  her  charms. 
To  lull  his  thoughts  in  luxury's  fair  lap, 
To  fenfual  eafe   (the  bane  of  little  kings, 
Monarchs  whofe   waxen   images  of  fouls 
Are  moulded  into  foftnefs)  ;   (till  his  mind 
Wears  its  own   fhapc  ;    nor  can  the  heav'nly  form 
Stoop  to  be  modell'd   by  the  wild  decrees 
Of  the  mad  vulgar,   that  unthinking  herd. 

He  lives  above  the  crowd,  nor  hears  the  noife 
Of  wars  and  triumphs,   nor  regards  the  ftiuuts 
Of  popular  applaufe,   that  empty  found  ; 
Nor  feels  the  flying  arrows  of  reproach, 
Or  fpite,   or  envy.      In  himfelf  fecure, 
Wifdom  his  tower,  and  confeience  is  his  fliield  ; 
Hid  peace  all  inward,   and  his  joys  his  own. 

Now  my  ambition  fwells,   my  wiflies  foar  ; 
This  be  my  kingdom  :    fit  above  the  globe, 
My  tifing  foul,   and  drefs  thyfclf  around, 
And  fhine  in   virtue's  armour  ;   climb   the  height 
Of  wifdom's   lofty  caftle  ;  there  refide 
Safe  from  the  fmiling  and  the  frowning  world. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    SCC.  I43 

Yet,  once  a  day  drop  down  a  gentle  look 
On  the  great  mole- hill,  and,  with  pitying  eye, 
Survey  the  bnfy   tmmets  lound  the  heap, 
Crowding  and  bullling   in  a  thoufand    forms 
Of  llrife  and  toil  to  purchafe  wealth  and   fame, 
A  bubble  or  a  dull  :    Then  call  thy  thoughts 
Up  to  thyftlf  to  feed  on  joys  unknown, 
Rich  without  gold,  and  great  without  renown. 


TRUE       COURAGE. 

HONOUR  demands  my  fong.    Forget  the  ground, 
Mygen'rous  mufe,  and  fit  among  the  (tars  ! 
There  fings  the  foul  that,  confeious  of  her  birth, 
Lives  like  a  native  of  the  vital  wotld 
Amonglt  rhefe  dying  clods,   and  bears  her  (late 
Ju(t  to  hcrfelf  :    How  nobly  (he  maintain* 
Her  character  ;   fuperior   to  the  fkfh, 
She  wields  her  pad!  >ns  like  her  limbs,   and  knows 
The  brutal  pow'rs  were  only  born   t'obey. 

T-brt>  is  the  man  whom  ftorms  could  never  make 
Meanly  complain  ;   nor  can  a  flatt'ring  gale 
Make  him  talk  proudly  :    he  hath  no  defire 
To  read   his  fecret.   fate  :    yet,    unconctrn'd 
And  calm,  could  meet  his  unborn  defiiny 
In  all  its  charming  or  its   frightful  fliapes. 

He  that,  unmrinking,  and  without  a  groan, 
Bears  the  firtt  wound,  may  finifh  all  the  war 
With  mere  courageous  filence,  and   come  off 
Conqueror  ;    for  the  man  that  well  conceals 
The  heavy  ftrokes  of  fate,   he  bears  'em  well. 

Pie,  though  th' Atlantic  and  the  Midland  feas 
With  adverfe  furges  meet,   and  rife  on  high, 
Sufpended  'twixt  the  winds,  then  rulh  amain, 


?44       LTRIC    POEMS,     Book  II, 

Mingled  with  flames,  upon  his  Angle  head, 
And  clouds,  and  (lars,  and  thunder,  firm  he  (lands, 
Secure  of  his  beft  life  ;   unhurt,  unmov'd  ; 
And  drops  his  lower  nature,  born  for  death. 
Then,  from  the  lofty  caftle  of  his  mind 
Sublime,  looks  down,  exulting,  and  furveys 
The  ruins  of  creation  ;    "  fouls  alone 
"  Are  heirs  of  dying  worlds  ;"  a  piercing  glance 
Shoots  upwards  from  between  his  clofing  lids 
To  reach  his  birth-place,  and,    without  a  figh, 
He  bids  his  batter'd  flefli  lie  gently  down 
Among  his  native  rubbiih,  while  the  fpirit 
Breathes  and  flies  upward,   an  undoubted  guefi; 
Of  the  third  heav'n,  th'unruinable  fky. 

Thither,  when  fate  has  brought  our  willing  fouls, 
No  matter  whether  'twas  a  fliarp  difeafe, 
Or  a  fiiarp  fword   that  help'd  the  travellers  on, 
And  pufh'd  us  to  our  home.     Bear  up,  my  friend, 
Serenely,  and  break  through  the  ftormy  brine 
With  fteady  prow  ;  know,    we  fhall  once  arrive 
At  the  fair   haven  of  eternal  blifs 
To  which  wc  ever  ftcer  ;  whether,  as  kings 
Of  wide  command,  we've  fpread  the  fpacious  fea 
With  a  broad  painted  fleet,  or  row'd  along 
In  a  thin  cock-boat  with  a  little  oar. 

There  let  my  narrow  plank  fhift  me  to  land, 
And  I'll  be  happy.     Thus  I'll  leap   afliore, 
Joyful  and  fearlefs,   on  th'immortal  coaft, 
Since  all  I  leave  is  mortal,  and  it  rnuft  be  loft. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    OtC.  I45 


To  the  much  honoured  mr.  thomas  rowej 

The  Direclor  of  my   Youthful  Studies. 

FREE  PHILOSOPHY. 
I. 

CUSTOM,  that  tyrannefs  of  fools, 
That  leads  the  learned  round  the  fchools, 
In  magic  chains  of  forms  and  rules  ! 

My  genius  ftorms  her  throne. 
No  more,  ye  flaves,  with  awe  profound 
Beat  the  dull  track,   nor  dance  the  round  ; 
Loofe  hands,  and  quit  th'enchanted   ground': 
Knowledge  invites  us  each  alone. 
II. 
I   hate  thefe  {hackles  of  the  mind, 

Forg'd  by  the  haughty  wife  : 
Souls  were  not  born  to  be  confin'd, 
And  led,  like  Sampfon,  blind  and  bound  : 
But  when  his  native  ftrength  he  found, 

He  well  aveng'd   Wn  eyes. 
I  love  thy  gentle  influence,   R.OWE  ; 
Thy  gentle  influence,  like  the  fun, 
Only  diflblves  the  frozen  fnow  ; 
Then  bids  our  thoughts  like  rivers  flow, 
And  ehoofe  the  channels  where  they  run. 

III. 
Thoughts  fliould  be  free  as  fire  or  wind  ': 
The  pinions  of  a  fingle  mind 

Will  through  all  nature  fly  : 
But  who  can  drag  up  to  the  poles 
Long  fetter'd  ranks  of  leaden  fouls  I 
A  genius  which  no  chain  controuls 
Roves  with  delight,  or  de-ep,  or  high  : 
Swift  I  furvey  the  globe  around  ; 
Dive  to  the  centre,  through  the  folid  ground, 
Or  travel  o'er  the  Ik  v. 
O 


ufi       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 


TO    THE    REVEREND 
MR.     BENONI     ROWE. 

THE  WAY  OF  THE  MULTITUDE. 

I. 

ROWE,  if  we  make  the  crowd  our  guide 
Through  life's  uncertain  road, 
Mean  is  the  chace  ;  and,  wand'ring  wide, 

We  mifs  th'immortal  good  : 
Yet,  if  my  thoughts  could  be   confin'd 
To  follow  any  leader-mind, 
I'd  mark  thy  fteps,  and  tread  the  fame  : 
Drefs'd  in  thy  notions  I'd  appear, 
Not  like  a  foul  of  mortal  frame, 

Nor  with  a  vulgar  air. 
II. 

Men  live  at  random  and  by  chance; 

Bright  reafon  never  leads  the  dance  : 
Whilft  in  the  broad  and  beaten  way, 

O'er  dales  and  hills,  from  truth  we  ftray  ; 
To  ruin  we  defcend,  to  ruin  we  advance. 

Wifdom  retires,  ihe  hates  the  crowd, 

And,  with  a  decent  fcorn, 
Aloof  ihe  climbs  her  fteepy  feat, 
Where  nor  the  grave  nor  giddy  feet 
Of  the  learn'd  vulgar,  or  the  rude, 

Have  e'er  a  paffage  worn. 
III. 
Mere  hazard  firft  began  the  track, 
Where  cuflom  leads  her  thoufands  blind 

In  willing  chains  and  flrong  : 
There's  fcarce  one  bold,  one  noble  mind, 
Dares  tread  the  fatal  error  back  ; 
But  h..ad  in  hand  ourfelves  we  bind, 

And  drag  the  age  along. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  147 

IV. 

Mortals,  a  favage  herd,  and  loud 
As  billows  on  a  noify  flood, 

In  rapid  order  roll  : 
Example  makes  the  mifclu'ef  good  : 
With  jocund  heel  we  beat  the  road, 

Unheedful  of  the  goal. 
Me  let  *Ithuriel'3  friendly  wing 
Snatch  from  the  crowd,  and  bear  fublimc 

To  wifdom's  lofty  tow'r, 
Thence  to  furvey  that  wretched   thing, 
Mankind  ;  and,  in  exalted  rhime, 

Blefs  the  deliv'ring  Pow'r. 


TO    THE    REVEREND  \ 

MR.     JOHN      HOWE. 

1704, 

I, 

GREAT  man,  permit  the  mufe  to  climb 
And  feat  her  at  thy  feet  ; 
Bid  hrr  attempt  a  thought  fublime, 

And  confecrate  her  wit. 
I  feel,   I  feel,  th'attra&ive  force 

Of  thy  fuperior  foul  : 
My  chariot  flies  her  upward  courfe, 

The  wheels  divinely  rolh 
Now  let  me  chide  the  mean  affairs 

And  mighty  toil  of  men  : 
How  they  grow  grey  in  trifling  cares, 
Or  wafte  the  motions  of  the  fpheres, 

Upon  delight3  as  vain  ! 

•  Ithuriel  is  the  name  of  an  angel  in  Milton'3  ParadifeLoft. 


148       L  TRIC    PO  E  MS,     Book  II. 
II. 

A  puff  of  honour  fills  the  mind, 
And  yellow  dull  is  folid  good  : 
Thus,   like  the    afs  of  favage  kind, 
We  fnuff  the  breezes  of  the  wind, 
Or  ileal  the  ferpent's  food. 
Could  all  the  choirs 
That  charm  the  poles 
But  ftrike  one  doleful  found, 
'Twould  be  employ'd  to  mourn  our  fou'h, 
Souls  that  were  fram'd  of  fprightly  fires 
In  floods  of  folly  drown'd. 
Souls  made  of  glory  feek  a  brutal  joy  ; 

How  they  difclaim  their  heav'nly  birth, 
Melt  their  bright  fubftance  down  with  droffy  earth, 
And  hate  to  be  refin'd  from  that  impure  alloy  ! 

III. 

Oft  has  thy  genius  rous'd  us  hence 

With    elevated  fong  ; 
Bid  us  renounce  this  world  of  fenfe  j 
Bid  us  divide  th'immortal  prize 

With  the  feraphic  throng  : 
11  Knowledge  and  love   make  fpirits  blefs'd  ; 
*'  Knowledge  their  food,  and  love  their  rcit  \f> 
But  flefh,   th'unnianageable  bea-ft,. 
Refills  the  pity  of  thine  eyes, 

And  mufic  of  thy  tongue. 
Then  let  the  worms  of  grov'ling  mind, 
Round  the  fhort  joys  of  earthly  kind, 

In  reftlefs  windings  roam  : 
HOWE  hath    an  ample  orb  of  foul, 
Where  mining  worlds  of  knowledge  roll  s 
Where  love,  the  centre  and  the  pole, 

Completes  the  heav'n  at  home. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  I49 


THE    DISAPPOINTMENT    AND    RELIEF. 

I. 

VIRTUE,   permit  my  fancy   to  impofe 
Upon  my  better  pow'rs  : 
She  calls  fweet  fallacies  on  half  our  wots, 

And  gilds  the  gloomy  hours. 
How  could  we  bear  this  tedious  round 
Of  waning  moons  and  rolling  years, 
Of  flaming  hopes  and  chilling  fears, 
If  (where  no  fov'reign  cure  appears) 
No  opiates  could  be  found  ? 
II. 
Love,  the  moft  cordial  ft  ream  that  flows, 
Is, a  deceitful  good  : 
Young  Doris,  who  nor  guilt  nor  danger  knows, 

On  the  green  margin  ftood, 
Pleas'd  with  the  golden   bubbles  as  they  rofe, 
And  with  more  golden  fands  her  fancy  pav*d  the  flood 
Then,  fond  to  be  entirely  blefs'd, 
And  tempted  by  a  faithlefs  youth, 
As  void  of  goodnefs  as  of  truth, 
She  plunges  in  with  heedlefs  hafte, 

And  rears  the  nether  mud  : 
Darknefs  and  naufeous  dregs  arife 
O'er  thy  fair  current,  love,  with  large  fupplies 
Of  pain  to  teaze  the  heart,  and  forrow  for  the  «yes. 
The  golden  blifs  that  charm'd  her  fight 
Is  dafh'd,  and  drown'd,  and  loft  : 
A  fpark,  or  glimm'ring  ftreak  at  mad, 
Shines  here  and  there,  amidft  the  night, 
Amidft  the  turbid  waves,  and  gives  a  faint  delight, 
III. 
Recover'd  from  the  fad  furprife, 

Doris  awakes  at  laft, 
Grown  by  the  difappointment  wife  ; 
And  manages  with  art  th'unlucky  caft  ; 
O  2 


i,50       L  r  RIC   POEMS,.     Book  tl. 

When  the  lowring  frown  fhe  fpies 
On  her  haughty  tyrant's  brow, 
With  humble  love  fhe  meets  his  wrathful  eyes, 

And  makes  her  fov'reign  beauty  bow  : 
Clieei  ful  fhe  fmiles  upon  the  grifly  form  ; 
So  fliines  the  fctting  fun  on   adverfe  fkies,. 

And  paints  a  rainbow  on  the  florm. 
Anon  fhe  lets  the  fullen  humour  fpendj 
And,  with  a  virtuous  book  or  friend, 

Beguiles  th'uncafy  hours  : 
Well  colouring  ev'ry  crofs  fi>e  meets, 
With  heart  ferene  fhe  fieeps  and  eats  ; 
She  fpreads  her  board  with  fancy'd  fweets, 
And  flrews  her  bed  with   flowr's. 


THE    HERO S . SCHOOL    OF    MORALITY.. 

T  HERON,  amongfl  his  travels,  found 
A  broken  llatue  on  the  ground  ; 
And,  feavching  onward  as  he  went, 
He  trae'd  a  ruin'd   monument. 
Mould,  mofs,  and  fhades,   had  overgrown 
The  fcnlpture  of  the  crumbling  llone  ; 
Yet  ere  he  pafs'd,    with  much  ado, 
He  guefs'd,  and  fpell'd  out  Sci-pi-o. 

"  Enough,"  he  cry'd  ;  "  I'll  drudge  no  more 
u  In  turning,  the  dull  Stoics  o'er  ; 
"  Let  pedants  wafte  their  hours  of  cafe 
"  To  fweat  all  night  at  Socrates  ; 
"  To  feed  their  boys  with  notes  and  rules, 
;'  Thofc  tedious  recipes  .of  fchools, 
"  To  cure  ambition  :     I  can  learn 
a!  With  greater  eafe  the  great  concern 
"  Of  mortals  ;   how  wc  may   defpife 
•All  the  gay  things  below  the  ikies. 

c«  Methinks,   a  mould'ring  pyramid 
4  Says'  all  that  the  old   fzges  faid  ; 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &TC 

*  Ifor  mc  thefe  fhatter'd  tombs  contain. 
More  morals  than  the  Vatican  ; 
The  dud  of  heroes   call  abroad, 
And  kick'd  and    trampl'd  in  the  road, 
The  relics  of  a  lofty  mind, 
That  lately   wars  and  crowns  defign'd, 
Tofs'd  for  a  jeft  from  wind  to  wind, 
Bid  me  be  humble,  and  forbear 
Tall  monuments  of  fame  to  rear  ; 
They  are  but  caftles  in  the  air. 
The  tow'ring  heights  and  frightful  falls 
The  ruin'd  heaps  and  funerals, 
Of  fmoking  kingdoms  and  their  kings,v 
Tell  me  a  thoufand   mournful  things 
In  melancholy  filence. — 


ip 


■Ht 


! 


That,  living,  could  not  bear  to  fee 
An  equal,   now  lies  torn  and  dead  ; 
Here  his  pale  trunk,  and  there  his  head  5 
Great  Pompey  !    while  I  meditate, 
With  folemn  horror,   thy  fad  fate, 
Thy  carcafe,  fcatter'd  on  the  more 
Without  a  name,    inftrudts  me  more 
Than  my  whole  library  before. 

"  Lie  flill,  my  Plutarch,  then,  and  fleep  ; 
And  you,  good  Seneca,   may  keep 
Your  volumes   clos'd   for   ever  too  ; 
I  have  no  further  ufe  for  you  ; 
For  when  I  feel  my  virtue,  fail, 
And  my  ambitious    thoughts  prevail, 
I'll  take  a  turn  3tnong  the  tombs, 
And  fee  whereto  all  glory  comes  : 
There  the  vile  foot  of  every  clown 
Tramples  the  fons  of  honour  down  5 
Beggars  with  awful  nfhes  fport, 
And  tread  the  C^favs  in   the  dirt,'" 


*52      LYRIC   POEMS,      Book  II. 


FREED  O  M. 


1697. 


TEMPT  me  no  more  :   my  foul  can  ne'er  comport 
With   the  gay  flav'ries  of  a  court  : 
I've  an  averfion   to  thofe  charms, 
And  hug  dear  liberty  in  both  mine   arms. 
Go,  vaflal- fouls,  go,   cringe  and  wait, 
And  dance  attendance  at  Honorio's  gate, 
Then  run  in  troops  before  him  to  compofe  his  Mate  : 
Move  as  he  moves,  and,  when  he  loiters,  fland  ; 
You're  but  the  fhadows  of  a  man. 
Bend  when  he  fpeaks,  and  kifs  the  ground  : 
Go,  catch  ih'impertinence  of  found  : 
Adore  the  follies  of  the  great  ; 
Wait  till  he  fmiles.     But,  lo,  the  idol  frown'd, 
And  drove  them  to.  their  fate. 

H. 

Thus  bafe-born  minds  :    But,  as  for  me, 

I  can  and  will   be  free  : 
Like  a  ftrong  mountain,  or  fome  (lately  tree, 

My  foul  grows  firm  upright  ; 
And  as  I  ftand,  and  as  I  go, 

It  keeps  my  body  fo  : 

No,  1  can  never  part  with  my  creation-right. 
.Let  flives  and  afTes  floop  and  bow, 
I  cannot  make  this  iron  knee 
Bend  to  a  meaner  pow'r  than  that  which  form'd  it  free- 

III. 

Thus  my  bold  heart  profufcly  play'd 
Pindarical  ;   then  on  a  bianchy  made 
I  hung  my  harp  aloft,   myfelf  beneath  it  laid. 

Nature,  that  liilen'd  to  my  ftrain, 
Refum'd  the  theme,  and  a&ed  it  again.  , 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    Uc.  1 53 

Sudden  rofc  a  whirling  wind, 

Swelling  like  Honorio  proud, 

Around  the  draws  and  feathers  crowd, 
Types  of  a  flavifli  mind  : 

Upwards  the  llormy  forces  rife, 

The  duft  flies  op  and  climbs  the  fkics  ; 
And,  as  the  temped  fell,  th'obedient  vapours  funk  : 
Again  it  roars  with  bellowing  found  ; 

The  meaner  plants  that  grew  around, 
The  willow  and  the  afp,  trembl'd  and  kifs'd  the  ground. 

Hard  by,    there  flood  the  iron  trunk 
Of  an  old  oak,    and  all  the  ftorm  defy'd  : 

In  vain  the  winds  their  forces  try'd  : 

In  vain  they  roar'd  ;    the  iron  oak 
Bow'd  only  to  the  heav'uly  thunder's  ftroke. 


ON    MR.   LOCKE  S    ANNOTATIONS    UPON 
SEVERAL   PARTS  OF  THE    NEW-TESTAMENT, 

LEFT    BEHIND     HIM    AT     HIS     DEATH. 
I. 

THUS  reafon  learns,  by  flow  degrees, 
What  faith  reveals  ;  but  dill  complain? 
Of  intellectual   pains 
And  darknefs  from  the   too  exuberant  light. 
The  blaze  of  thofc  bright  myfteries, 
Pour'd  all  at  once  on   nature's  eyes, 
Offend  and  cloud  her  feeble  fight. 

II. 

Reafon  could  fcarce  iuilain  to  fee 
Th'almighty  One,  th'efcernal  Three, 
Or  bear  the  infant  Deity. 
Scarce  could  her  pride  defcend  to  own 
Her  Maker  flopping  from  his  throne, 
And  drefs'd  in  glories  fo  unknown. 


154       LYRIC    POEMS, 


Book  II. 


A  ranfom'd  world,   a  bleeding  God, 

And  htsav'n  appeas'd  with  flowing  blood, 
Were   themes  too  painful  to  be  underftood. 
III. 

Faith,  thou  bright  cherub,  fpcak,  and  fay, 

Did  ever  mind  of  mortal  race 

Coft  thee  more  toil,  or  larger  grace, 

To  melt  and  bend  it  to  obey  ? 
'Twas  hard  to  make  fo  rich  a  foul  fubmit, 
And  lay  her  mining  honours    at   thy  fov'reign  feet. 
IV. 

Sifter  of  faith,  fair  Charity, 

Shew  me  the  wondrous   man  on  high  ; 

Tell  how  he  fees  the  Godhead  three  in  one  : 

The  bright  conviction  fills  his  eye  ; 
His  noblefl  pow'rs  in  deep  proftration  lie 
At  the  rayfterious  throne. 

"  Forgive,"  he  cries,   "  ye  faints  below, 

"  The  wav'ring  and    the  cold  aflent 

"  I  gave  to  themes  divinely  tine  ; 
"  Can  you  admit  the  blefTed  to   repent  ? 

*'  Eternal  darknefs  veil  the  lines 
*'  Of  that  unhappy  book, 
"  Where  glimm'ring  reafon  with  falfe  luftre  mines  ; 

M  Where  the  mere    mortal  pen  miftook 
"  What  the  celeftial  meant  !" 


See  Mr.  Locke's  Annotations  on  Rom.iii.  25.  arid  Para- 
phrafe  on  Rom.  ix.  5.  which  has  inclined  fome  readers 
to  doubt  whether  he  believed  the  deity  and fatisfaRion  of 
Christ.  Therefore,  in  the  fourth  Jlanza,  I  invoke 
Charity,  that,  by  her  help,  I  may  find  him  out  in  hea- 
ven ;  Jince  his  notes  on  2  Cor.  v.  ult.  and  fome  other 
places,  give  me  reafon  to  believe  he  ivas  no  Sociman, 
though  he  has  darkened  the  glory  of  the  Gofpel,  and  de- 
bafed  Chriflianity,  in  the  book  which  he  calls  the  Reafon- 
allenefs  of  it  ;  and  in  fome  of  his  ether  works. 


SACRED    TO   VIRTUE,    8c~C.  1 55 


TRUE      RICHES. 

I    AM  not   concern'd    to    know 
What  to-morrow  fate  will  do  : 
'Tis  enough  that  I  can  fay 
I've  poffcia'd  myfelf  to-day  : 
Then,   if  haply  midnight-death 
Seize  my  flefti  and  flop  my  breath, 
Yet  to-morrow  1  fhall  be 
Heir  to  the  beft  part  of  me. 

Glitt'ring  flones,  and  golden  things, 
Wealth  and  honours  that  have  wings, 
Ever  flutt'ring  to  be  gone, 
I  could  never  call  my  own. 
Riches  that  the  world  beftow., 
She  can  take  and  I  can  lofe  ; 
But  the  treafures  that  are  mine 
Lie  afar  beyond   her  line. 
Wrhcn  I  view  my  fpacious  foul, 
And  furvey  myfelf  a-whole, 
And  enjoy  myfelf  alone, 
I'm  a  kingdom  of  my  own. 

I've  a  mighty  part  within, 
That  the  world  hath  never  feen  ; 
Rich  as  Eden's  happy  ground, 
And  with  choicer  plenty  crown'd. 
Here,  on  all  the   fnining  boughs,  ^^ 

Knowledge  fair  and  ufelefs  grows  ; 
On  the  fame  young  flow'ry  tree 
All  the  feafons  you  may   fee  : 
Notions,   in  the  bloom  of  light, 
Juft  difclofi"^  to  the  fight. 
Here  are  thoughts  of  larger  growth, 
Rip'ning  into  folid   truth  ; 
Fruits  refin'd,  of  noble  tafte  : 
Seraphs  f;ed  on  fuch  repaft. 


i$6       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

Here,  in  a  green  and   fliady  grove, 
Streams  of  pleafure  mix  with  love  : 
There,  beneath  the  fmiling  fkies, 
Hills  of  contemplation  rife  ; 
Now  upon  fome  fiiining  top 
Angels  light,  and  call  me  up  ; 
I  rejoice  to  raife   my  feet  ; 
Both  rejoice  when  there  we  meet. 

There  are  endlefs  beauties  more 
Earth  hath  no  refemblance  for  ; 
Nothing  like  them  round  the  pole  ; 
Nothing  can  defcribe  the  foul  : 
'Tis  a  region  half  unknown, 
That  has  treafures  of  its  own  ; 
More  remote  from  public  view 
Than  the  bowels  of  Peru. 
Broader  'tis,    and  brighter  far, 
Than  the  golden  Indies  are. 
Ships  that  trace  the  wat'ry  flage 
Cannot  coaft  it  in  an  age  ; 
Harts  or  horfes,  ftrong  and  fleet, 
Had  they  wings  to  help  their  feet, 
Could  not  run  it  halfway   o'er 
In  ten  thoufand    days,  or  more. 

Yet  the  filly  wand'ring  mind 
Loth  to  be  too  much  confin'd, 
Roves  and  takes  her  daily  tours, 
Coafting  round  the  narrow  fhores  ; 
Narrow  fhores  of  flefh  and  fenfe, 
Picking  (hells  and  pebbles  thence  : 
Or  (lie  fits  at  fancy's  door, 
Calling  fhapes  and  fiiadows  to'er  ; 
Foreign  vifits  Hill  receiving, 
And  t'herfelf  a  ftranger  living  : 
Never,  never,  would  flie  buy 
Indian  dull  or  Tyrian   dye  ; 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE, 


&C, 


*57 


Never  trade  abroad  for  more, 
If  (he  faw   her  native   ftore  : 
If  her  inward  worth  were  known, 
She  might  ever  live  alone. 

THE    ADVENTUROUS    MUSE. 

I. 

URANIA  takes  her  morning  flight 
With  an  inimitable  wing  : 
Through  rifing  deluges  of  dawning  light 

She  cleaves  her  wondrous    way  ; 
She  tunes  immortal  anthems  to  the  growing  day  ; 
Nor  Rapin  *  gives  her  rules  to  fly,   nor  Purcellf  notei 
to  fing. 

II. 
She  nor  enquires,  nor  knows,  nor  fears, 
Whereliethepointed  rocks, orwhere  th'ingulphingfand: 
Climbing  the  liquid  mountains  of  the  fkies, 
She  meets  defcending  angels  as  fhe  flies, 
Nor  afks  them  where  their  country  lies, 

Or  where  the  fea-marks  ftand. 
Touch'd  with  an  empyreal  ray, 
She  fprings,  unerring,  upward  to  eternal  day  j 

Spreads  her  white  fails  aloft,   and  fleers, 
With  bold  and  fafc  attempt,   to  the  celeftial  land  ; 

III. 
While  little  fluffs  along  the  mortal  fhores, 

With  humble  toil,   in  order  creep, 
Coafling  in  fight  of  one  another's  oars, 
Nor  venture  through  the  boundl'efs  deep  ; 
Such  low  pretending  fouls  are  they 
Who  dwell  inclos'd  in  folid  orbs  of  fkull  ; 

Plodding  along  their  fober  way, 
The  fnail  o'ertakes  them  in  their  wildeft  play, 
While  the  poor  labourers  fweat  to  be  corre&ly  dull. 

*  A  French  critic.  \  An  Engtijh  maflcr  of  mu/ic, 

P 


158        LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

IV. 

Give   me  the  chariot  whofe  diviner  wheels 

Mark,  their  own  route,  and,  unconfin'd, 

Bound  o'er  the  everlailing  hills, 
And  lofe  the  clouds  below,  and   leave  the  ftars  behind. 

Give  me  the  Mufe  whofe  generous  force, 
Impatient  of  the  reins, 

Purfues  an  unattempted  courfe, 
Breaks  all  the  critic's  iron  chains, 
And  bears  to  paradife  the  raptur'd  mind. 
V. 

There  Milton  dwells  :   The  mortal  fung 

Themes  not  prefum'd  by  mortal  tongue  ; 

New  terrors,  or  new  glories,  fhine 
In  ev'ry  page,   and   flying  fcencs  divine 
Surprize  the  wond'ring  fenfe,  and  draw  our  fouls  along. 
Behold  his  Mufc,  fent  out  t'explore 
The  unapparent  deep  where  waves  of  chaos  roar, 

And  realms  of  night  unknown   before. 

She  trae'd  a  glorious  path  unknown, 
Thro'  fields  of  heav'nly  war,  and  feraphs  overthrown, 

Where  his  advent'rous  geniiB  led  : 
Sov'reign  fhe  fram'd  a  model  of  her  own, 

Nor  thank'd  the  living  nor  the  dead. 
The  noble  hater  of  degenerate  rhime 
Shook  off  the  chains,  and  built  his  verfe  fublirric  ; 
A  monument  too  high  for  coupled  fouls  to  climb. 

He  mourn'd  the  garden  loft  below  ; 

(Earth  is  the  fcene  for  tuneful  woe  !) 

Now  blifs  beats  high  in  all  his  veins ; 

Now  the  loft  Eden  he  regains, 
Keeps  his  own  air,  and  triumphs  in  uniivall'd  drains. 

VI. 

Immortal  bard  !   Thus  thy  own  Raphael  fings. 

And  knows  no  rule  but   native  fire  : 
All  heav'n  fits  filent  while  to  his  fov'rcign  firings 

He  talks  unutterable  things  : 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  I  59 

With  graces  infinite  his  untaught  fingers  rove 

Acrofs  the  golden  lyre  : 
From  ev'ry  note  devotion  fprings  ; 
Rapture,  and  harmony,  and  love, 

O'erfpread   the  lift n ing  choir. 


TO    MR.    NICOLAS    CLARK. 

THE    COMPLAINT. 
I. 
, r  1  i  WAS  in  a  vale,  where  ofiers  grow 

_L     By  murm'ring  ftreams  we  told  our  woe, 
And  mingled  all  our  cares  : 
Friendship  fat  pleas'd  in  both  our  eyes  ; 
In  both  the  weeping  dews  arife, 
And  drop  alternate  tears. 
II. 
The  vigorous  monarch  of  the  day, 
Now  mounting  half  his  morning  way, 

Shone  with  a  fainter  bright  : 
Still  fick'ning,  and  decaying  (till, 
Dimly  he  wander'd  up  the  hill 
With  his  expiring  light. 
III. 
In  dark  eclipfe  his  chariot  roll'd, 
The  Queen  of  Night  obfeur'd  his  gold 

Behind  her  fable  wheels  ; 
Nature  grew  fad  to  lofe  the  day  : 
The  flow'ry  vales  in  mourning  lay, 
In  mourning  flood  the  hills. 
IV. 
Such  are  our  forrOws,  CLARK,  I  cry'd  ; 
Clouds  of  the  brain  grow  black,  and  hide 

Our  darken'd  fouls  behind  : 
In  the  young  morning  of  our  years 
Diftempering  fogs  have  climb'd  the  fpheres, 
And  choak  the  lab'ring  mind. 


160       LTRICPOEMSy    Book  II. 
V. 

Lo,  the  gay  planet  rears  his  head, 
And  overlooks  the  lofty  fhade, 

New-bright'ning  all  the  fkies  : 
But  fay,  dear  partner  of  my  moan, 
When  will  our  long  eclipfe  be  gone, 

Or  when  our  funs  arife  ? 
VI. 
In  vain  are  potent  herbs  apply'd  : 
Harmonious  founds  in  vain  have  try'd 

To  make  the  darknefs  fly  : 
But  drugs  would  raife  the  dead  as  foon, 
Or  clatt'ring  brafs  relieve  the  moon, 

When  fainting  in  the  Iky. 
VII. 
Some  friendly  fpiiit  from  above, 
Born  of  the  light,  and  nurs'd  with  love, 

Affift  our  feebler  fires  : 
Force  thefe  invading  glooms  away  ; 
Souls  fhould  be  feen  quite  through  their  clay, 

Bright  as  your  heav'nly  choirs. 
VI H. 
But,  if  the  fogs  mud  damp  the  flame, 
Gently,  kind  Death,  diffolvc  our  frame, 

Relcafe  the  pris'ner,  Mind  : 
Our  fouls  (hould  mount,  at  thy  difcharge. 
To  their  bright  fouice,  and  fhine  at  large, 

Nor  clouded  nor  confin'd. 


THE    AFFLICTIONS    OF    A     FRIEND. 

I. 

NOW  let  my  cares  all  buty'd  lie  ; 
My  griefs  forever  dumb  : 
Your  forrows  fwell  my  heart  fo  high, 
They  leave  my  own  bo  room. 


1702. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  l6l 

II. 

Sickncfs  and  pains  are  quite  forgot  ; 

The  fpletn   itfelf  is  gone  : 
Plung'd  in  your  woes  I  feel  them  not, 

Or  feel  them  all  in  one. 
III. 
Infinite  grief  puts  fenfe  to  flight, 

And  all   the  foul  invades  ; 
So  the  broad  gloom  of  fpreading  night 

Devours  the  ev'ning  (hades. 
IV. 
Thus  am  I  born  to  be  unblefs'd  ! 

This  fympathy  of  woe 
Drives  my  own  tyrants  from  my   bread, 

T'admit  a  foreign  foe. 

V. 

Sorrows  in  long  fuccefilon   reign  j 

Their  iron  rod  I  feel  : 
Friendfhip  has  only  chang'd  the  chain  % 

But  I'm  the  pris'ner  ftill. 
VI. 
Why  was  this  life  for  mis'ry  made  ? 

Or  why  drawn  out  fo  long  \ 
Is  there   no  room  among  the  dead  ? 

Or  is  a  wretch  too  young  \ 
VII. 
Move  fader  on,  great  nature's  wheel  j  . 

Be  kind,  ye  rolling  pow'rs  ; 
Hurl  my  days  headlong  down  the  hill 

With  undiftinguifh'd  hours. 
VIII. 
Be  dufky,  all  my  riling  funs, 

Nor  fmile    upon  a  flave  : 
Darknefs  and  death  make  hafte  at  once 

To  hide  me  in   the  grave. 
P  z 


M 


LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  11= 


THE    REVERSE  ; 
©R,    THE    COMFORTS    OF    A    FRIEND; 

I. 

THUS  Nature  tun'd  her  mournful  tongue. 
Till  Grace  lift  up  her  head  ; 
Revers'd  the   forrow  and  the  fong, 
And,  fmiling,  thus  (he  faid  : 

II. 

Were  kindred  fpirits  born  for  cares  ?• 

Mull  ev'ry  grief  be  mine  ? 
Is  there  a  fympathy  in  tears, 

Yet  joys  refufe  to  join  ? 

III. 
Forbid  it,  Heav'n,  and  raife  my  love, 

And  make  our  joys  the  fame  : 
So  blifs  and  fiiendmip  join'd  above. 

Mix  an  immortal  flame. 

IV. 
Sorrows  are  loft  in  vaft  delight 

That  brightens  all  the  foul, 
As  deluges  of  dawning  light 

O'erwhelm  the  duiky  pole. 

V, 

Pleafures  in  long  fucccflion  reign, 

And  all  my  pow'rs  employ  : 
Friendfliip  but  ftiifts  the  pleafing  fcenc, 

And  frc(h  repeats  the  joy. 

VI. 
Life  has  a  foft  and  filver  thread, 

Nor  is  it  drawn  too  long  : 
Yet,  when  my  vafter  hopes  .perfuadc,. 

I'm  willing  to  be  gone. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    8cC,  iCg 

VII. 

Faft  as  ye  plcafe,  roll  down  the  lull,. 

And  hafte  away  my  years  ; 
Ox  I  can  wait  my  Father's  will, 

And  dwell  beneath  the  fpheres. 
VIII. 
Rife  glorious,  ev'ry  future  fun, 

Gild  all    my   following  days  ; 
But  make  the  lad  dear   moment  known 

By  well  diftinguiuYd  rays. 


TO    THE    RIGHT    HON.    JOHN,     LORD    CUTTS< 
[At  the  Siege  of  Namur.]     • 

THE      HARDY      SOLDIER. 


4  /^V    WHY  is  man  fo  thoughtlefs  grown  ? 
'  V_>/    Why  guilty  fouls  in  hafte  to  die  ? 
'  Vent'n'ng  the  leap  to  worlds  unknown  ; 
'  Hecdlefs,  to  arms  and  blood  they  fly. 

II. 
1  Are  lives  but  worth  a  foldier's  pay  ? 
'  Why  will  ye  join  fuch  wide  extremes, 
'  And  (lake  immortal  fouls  in  play 
'  At  defperate  chance  and  bloody  games  i 

III. 
'  Valour's  a  noble  turn  of  thought, 
'  Whofe  pardon'd  guilt  forbids  her  fears  s 
'  Calmly  me  meets  the  deadly  (hot, 
'  Secure  of  life  above  the  ftars. 

IV. 
'  But  Frenzy  dares  eternal  fate, 
'  And,  fpurr'd  with  honour's  airy  dreams, 
'  Flics  to  attack  th'infernal  gate, 
And  force  a  paflage  to  the  flames." 


164       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 
V. 

Thus,  hov'ring  o'er  Namuria's  plains, 
Sang  heav'nly  love  in  Gabriel's  form  : 
Young  THRASO  felt   the  moving  drains, 
And  vow'd  to  pray  before  the  florm. 

VI. 

Anon  the  thund'ring  trumpet  calls  ; 
*'  Vows  are  but  wind,"   the  hero  cries  ; 
Then  fweara  by  heav'n,  and  fcales  the  walls, 
Drops  in  the  ditch,  defpairs,  and  dies. 


BURNING  SEVERAL  POEMS  OF  OVID,  MARTIAL;, 
OLDHAM,  DRYDEN,  &C. 

I. 

I   JUDGE  the  Mufe  of  lewd  defire  ; 
Her  fons  to  darknefs,  and  her  works  to  fire. 
In  vain  the  flatteries  of  their  wit, 
Now  with  a  melting  (train,  now  with  a  heav'nly  flight, 
Would  tempt  my  virtue  to  approve 
Thofe  gaudy  tinders  of  a  lawlefs  love. 
So  harlots  drefs  :    They  can  appear 
Sweet,  modeft,  cool,  divinely  fair, 
To  charm  a  Cato's  eye  ;    but  all  within 
Stench,  impudence  and  fire,  and  ugly  raging  fin  ! 

II. 

Die,  Flora,  die,  in  endlefs  ihame, 

Thou  proftitute  of  blacked  fame, 
Stript  of  thy  falfe  array. 

Ovid,    and  all  yc  wilder  pens 

Of  modern  lud,  who  gild  our  fcenes, 
Poifon  the  Britim    flage,  and  paint  damnation  gay, 

Attend  your  midrefs  to  the  dead  : 
When  Flora  dies,   her  imps  (hall  wait  upon  her  flmde. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  165 

III, 

Strephon  *,  of  noble  blood  and  mind 
(For  ever  fhine  his  name  !) 
As  death  approach'd,  his  foul  refign'd, 
And  gave  his  loofer  fonnets  to  the  flame. 
11  Burn,  burn,"  he  cry'd,   with  facred  rage, 
11  Hell  is  the  due  of  ev'ry  page  ; 
*'  Hell  be  the  fate."      But,  O  indulgent  heav'n  J 
Go  vile  the  Mufe,  and  yet  the  man  forgiv'n  ! 
"  Burn  on,  my  fongs ;  for  not  the  ftlver  Thames, 
"  Nor  Tyber  with  his  yellow  flreams, 
"  In  endlefs  currents   rolling  to  the  main, 
"  Can  e'er  dilute  the  poifon,  or  wafh  out  the  Hain." 
So  Mofes,  by  divine  command, 
Forbade  the  leprous  houfe  to  ftand 
When  deep  the  fatal  fpot  was  grown  : 
'*  Break  down  the  timber,  and  dig  up  the  ftone." 


TO     MRS.     B.     BENDISH. 

AGAINST    TEARS. 

I. 

MADAM,  perfuade  me  tears  are  good 
To  wafh  our  mortal  cares  away  ; 
Thefe  eyes  fhall  weep  a  fudden  flood, 
And  ftream  into  a  briny  fea. 

II. 

Or,  if  thefe  orbs  are  hard  and  dry 
(Thefe  orbs  that  never   ufe  to  rain) 
Some  ilar  direct  me  where  to  buy 
One  fov'reign  drop  for  all  my  pain.. 

*  Earl  of  Rochejler., 


1699, 


166       L2"RIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 
Ill, 

Were  both  the  golden  Indies  mine, 
I'd  give  both  Indies  for  a  tear  ; 
I'd  barter   all  but  what's  divine  ; 
Nor  fhall  I  thin!;  the  bargain  dear. 

IV. 

But  tears,  alas  !    are  trifling  things  ; 
They  rather  feed  than  heal  our  woe  : 
From  trickling  eyes  new  forrow  fprings, 
As  weeds  in  rainy  feafons  grow. 

V. 
Thus  weeping  urges  weeping  on  : 
In  vain  our  mis'ries  hope   relief  ; 
For  one  drop  calls  another  down, 
Till  we  are  drown'd   in  feas  of  gritf. 

VI. 
Then  let  thefe  ufelefs  ltrcams  be  (laid  ! 
Wear  native  courage  on  your  face  : 
Thefe  vulgar  things  were  never  made 
For  fouls  of  a  fisperior  race. 

VII. 

If  'tis  a  rugged  path  you  go, 

And  thoufand  foes  your  ftcps  forround, 

Tread  the  thorns  down,  charge  through  the  foe  : 

The  hardetl  fight  is  higheft  crown'd. 


FEW     HAPPY 


I. 


MATCHES. 

Augufl,    I  701. 


SAY,  mighty  Love,  and  teach  my  fong 
To  whom  thy  fweeteit  joys  belong, 
And  who  the  happy   pairs, 
Whofe  yielding  hearts  and  joining  hands 
Find  bltffings  twilled  with  their  bands, 
To  foften  all  their  cares. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  l6j 

>- 

II. 

Not  the  wild  herd  of  nymphs  and   fwains, 
That  thoughtlefs  fly  into  t lie  chains, 

As  cuftom  leads  the  way  : 
If  there  be  blifs  without  delign, 
Ivies  and  oaks  may  grow  and  twine, 

And  be  as  blefs'd  as  they. 

III. 
Not  fordid  fouls  of  earthy  mould, 
Who  drawn  by  kindred  charms  of  gold, 

To  dull  embraces  move  : 
So  two  rich   mountains  of  Peru 
May  rum  to  wealthy  marriage  too, 

And  make  a  world  of  love. 

IV. 

Not  the  .mad  tribe  that  hell  infpires 
With  wanton  flames  ;  thofe  raging  fires 

The  purer  blifs  deftroy  : 
On  JEtna's  top  let  furies  wed, 
And  meets  of  lightning  drefs  the  bed, 

T'improve  the  burning  joy. 

V. 

Not  the  dull  pairs,  whofe  matble  forms 
None  of  the  meltirfg  paffions  warms, 

Can  mingle  hearts  and  hands  : 
Logs  of  green  wood,  that  quench  the  coals. 
Are  marry'd  jult  like  Stoic  fouls, 

With  ofiers  for  their  bands. 

VI. 

Not  minds  of  melancholy  ftrain,  - 
Still  filent,   or  that  ftill  complain, 

Can  the  dear  bondage  blefs  : 
As  well  may  heav'nly  concerts  fpring 
From  two  old  lutes  with  ne'er  a  ftring, 

Or  none  befide  the  bafs. 


1 68       LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 

VII. 

Nor  can  the  foft  enchantments  hold 
Two  jarring  fouls   of  angry  mould, 

The  rugged  and  the    keen  : 
Sampfon's  young  foxes  might  as  well 
In  bands  of  cheerful  wtdlock  dwell, 

With  firebrands  ty'd  between. 
VIII. 
Nor  let  the  cruel  fetters  bind 
A  gentle  to  a  favage  mind  ; 

For  love  abhors  the  fight  : 
Loofe  the  fierce  tiger  from  the  deer  ; 
For  native  rage  and  native  fear 

Rife  and  forbid  delight. 
IX. 
Two  kindeft  fouls  alone  mud  meet  ; 
'Tis  friendship  makes  the  bondage  fweet, 

And  feeds  their  mutual  loves  ; 
Bright  Venus  on  her  rolling  throne 
Is  drawn  by  gentlelt  birds  alone, 

And  Cupids  yoke  the  doves. 


TO     DAVID     POLHILL,     ESQ^. 

AN      EPIS#LE. 

December,  1702. 
I. 

LET  ufclefs  fouls  to  woods  retreat  ; 
POLHILL  mould  leave  a  country  feat 
When  virtue  bids  him  dare  be  great. 

II. 
Nor  Kent*,  nor  Sufftx,  fhould  have  charms, 
While  liberty,  with  loud  alarms, 
Calls  you  to  counfcls  and  to  arm3. 

*  His  country -/(at  and  dwelling* 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    ScC,  iCt 

III. 

Lewis,  by  fawning  Haves  ador'd, 
Bids  you    receive  fa  bafe-born  lord  ! 
Awake  your  cares  !   awake  your  Avoid  ! 

IV. 
Factions  among  the  Britons!  rife, 
Aud  warring  tongues,  and   wild  furmile, 
And  burning  zeal  without  her  eyes. 

V. 
A  vote  decides  the  blind  debate  ; 
Refolv'd,   "  'Tis  of  diviner  weight 
*«  To  fave  the  fteeple  than  the  {late." 

VI. 
The  bold  machine  $  is  form'd  and  join'd 
To  llietch  the  conference,  and  to  bind 
The  native  freedom  of  the  mind. 

VII. 
Your  grandfires'  fhades,  with  zealous  eye, 
Frown  down  to  fee  their  offspring  lie 
Carelcfs,  and  let  their  country  die. 

VIII. 

If  Trevia  j|  fear  to  let  you  ftand% 
Againft  the  Gaul  with  fpear  in  Band, 
At  lead  ff  petition  for  the  land. 


f  The  Pretender  proclaimed  king  in  France. 

%  The  Parliament. 

§  The  bill  againjl  occafwnal  conformity ',  1702. 

|J  Mrs.  Polhi/l,  of  the  family  of  the  Lord  Trevor. 
•    *[  Mr.  Polhi/l  teas  one  of  thofe  jiv^zealous  gentlemen, 
nuho  prefented  the  famous  Kentifh  Petition  to  the  Parlia- 
ment, in  the  reign  of  King  William,    to  hajlen  their  f ap- 
plies in  order  to  fupport  the  King  in  his  war  with  France 

O 


"V 


i7o       LYRIC    POEM  Sa     Book  II. 

THE    CELEBRATED    VICTORY    OF    THE     POLES 

OVER    OSMAN,    THE    TURKISH    EMPEROR, 
IN    THE    DACIAN    BATTLE. 

Tranfuited  from  Casimire,   B.  iv.   Od.  4.   with  large 
Additions, 

GADOR,  the  old,   the  wealthy,  and  the  ftrong, 
Cheerful  in  years  (nor  of  the  heroic  Mufe 
Unknowing,    nor  unknown)   held  fair  pofleffions 
Where  flows  the  fruitful  Danuhe.      Seventy  fpiings 
Smil'd  on  his  feed,  and  fcventy  harveft  moons 
Fill'd  his  wide  granaries  with  autumnal  joy  : 
Still  he  refum'd  the  toil  :     and,   Fame   reports, 
While  he  hroke  up  new  ground,  and  tir'd  his  plough 
In  graffy  furrows,  the  torn  earth  diiclos'd 
Helmets  and  fwords   (bright  furniture  of  ,war 
Sleeping  in  ruft)  and  heaps  of  mighty  bones. 
The  fun  descending  to  the  weftern  deep, 
Bid  him  lie  down  and  reft  ;   he  loos'd  the  yoke, 
Yet  held  his  wearied  oxen  from  their  food 
With  charming  numbers  and   uncommon  fong. 

Go,  fellow- labourers,  you  may  rove  fecure, 
Or  feed  befide  me  ;   tafte  the  greens  and  bough3 
That  you  have  long  forgot  ;    crop  the  fweet  herb, 
And  graze  in  fafety,    while  the  victor  Pole 
Leans  on  his  fpear  and  breathes  ;   yet  flill  his  eye 
Jealous  and   fierce.      How  large,  old  foldier,  fay, 
How  fair  a  harveft  of  the  flaughter'd  Turks 
Strew'd  the  Moldavian  fields  ?    What  mighty  piles 
Of  vad  deftruftioo  and  of  Thracian  dead 
Fill  and  amaze  my  eyes  !     Broad  bucklers  lie 
(A  vain  defence)  fprcad  o'er  the  pathlefs  hills, 
And  coats  of  fcaly  ft  eel,  and  hard  habergeon, 
Deep  bruis'd  and  empty  of  Mahometan  limbr. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  \"J  I 

This  the  fierce  Saracen  wore  (for,  when  a  boy, 
I  was  their  captive,  and  remind  their  drefs)  : 
Here  the  Polonians,  dreadful,  march'd  along, 
In  auguft   port  and  regular  array, 
Led  on   to  conquell  :    Here  the  Tnrkifh  chief, 
Prefumptuous,  trod,  and   in   rude  order  rang'd 
His  long  battalions,  while  his  populous  towns 
Pour'd  out  frefh  troops  perpetual,  drefs'd  in  arms, 
Horrent  in  mail,  and  gay  in  fpangled  pride. 

Oh  !   the  dire  image  of  the  bloody  fight 
Thefe  eyes  have  feen,  when  the  capacious  plain 
Was  throng'd  with  Dacian  fpear9 ;  when  polifh'd  helms 
And  convex  gold  blaz'd  thick  againft  the  fun, 
Refloring  all  his  beams  !   but  frowning  war. 
All  gloomy,  like  a  gather'd  tempefl,  ftoqd 
Wavering,  and  doubtful  where  to  bend  its  fall. 

The  ftorm  of  miffive  fteel  delay'd  a  while 
By  wife  command  ;   fledg'd  arrows  on  the  nerve  ; 
And  fcymiter  and  fabre  bore  the  (heath 
Reludlant  ;   till  the  hollow  brazen  clouds 
Had  bellow'd  from  each  quarter  of  the  field 
Loud  thunder,  and  difgorg'd  their  fulph'rous  fire. 
Then  banners  wav'd,  and  arms  were  mix'd  with  arms  ; 
Then  javelins  anfwer'd  javelins  as  they  fled 
(For  both  fled  luffing  death)  :   with  adverfe  edge 
The  crooked  fauchions  met  ;   and  hideous  noife, 
From  clafhing   (hields,  through   the  long  ranks  of  war, 
Clang'd  horrible.      A  thotifand  iron  ftorms 
Roar  diverfe,    and  in  harfh   confufion   drown 
The  trumpet's  filver  found.      O  rude  effort 
Of  harmony  !    Not  all  the  frozen  (lores 
Of  the  cold  north,  when  pour'd   in  ratiling  hail, 
Lafh  with  fuch  madnefs  the  Norwegian  plains, 
Or  fo  torment  the  ear.      Scarce  founds  fo  far 
The  direful  fragor,  when  fome  fouthern  blaft 
Tears  frorrr  the  Alps  a  ridge  of  knotty  oaks, 


172       LTRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

Deep  fang'd,  and  ancient  tenants  of  the  rock  : 
The  mafiy  fragment,  many  a  rood  in  length, 
With  hideous  clafh,  rolls  down  the  rugged  cliff, 
Refidlefs,  plunging  in  the  fubjedt  lake 
Como,  or  Luguine  ;  th'afHictcd  waters  roar  ; 
And  various  thunder  all  the  valley  fills  ! 
Such  was  the  noife  of  war.    "The  troubled  air 
Complains  aloud,  and  propagates  the  din 
To  neighbouring  regions  ;   rocks  and   lofty  hills 
Beat  the  impetuous  echoes  round  the  fky. 

Uproar,  revenge,  and  rage,  and  h?.te,  appear 
in  all  their  murderous  forms  ;  and  flame  and  blood. 
And  fweat  and  dud,  array  the  broad  campaign 
In  horror  :    hady  feet   and  fparkling  eyes, 
And  all  the   lavage  paflions  of  the  foul, 
Engage  in   the  warm  bufmefs  of  the   day. 
Here  mingling  hands,  but  with  no  friendly  gripe, 
join  in  the  fight  ;   and  breads  in  clofe  embrace, 
But  mortal  as  the  iron  arms  of  death. 
Here  words  auttere,  of  perilous  command, 
And  valour  fwift  t'obey  ;   bold  feats  of  arms, 
Dreadful  to  fee,  and  glorious  to  relate, 
Shine  through  the  field  with  more  furprizing  brightnefs 
Than  glittering  helms  or  fpears.      What  loud  applaufe 
(Bed  meed  of  warlike  toil)  what  manly  fhouts, 
And  yells  unmanly,  through  the  battle   ring  ! 
And  l'udden  wrath  dies  into  endlefs  fame. 

Long  did  the  fate  of  war  hang  dubious.      Here 
Stood  the  more  num'rous  Turk  ;  the  valiant  Pole 
Fought  here  ;   more  dreadful,  tho'  with  leffer  wings, 
°* 

kilt  what  the  Dahees,  or  the  coward  foul 
Ofti  Cydonian  ;   what  the  fearful    crowds 
Oi  bafc  Ciliciai.s  'fcaping  from  the  (laughter, 
Or  Parthian  beads,  with  all  their  racing  riders  ; 
What  could  they  mean  againlt  th'intrepid  bread 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  1?  J 

Of  the  purfuing  foe  ?  Th'impctuous  Poles 

Rufh  here,  and  here  the  Lithuanian  horfe 

Drive  down  upon  them  like  a  double  bolt 

Of  kindled  thunder  raging  through  the  ficy 

On  founding  wheels  ;   or  as  forae  mighty  flood 

Rolls  his  two  torrents  down  a  dreadful  fteep 

Precipitant,  and  bears  along  the  flreams 

Rocks,  woods,  and  trees,  with  all  the  grazing  herdj 

And  tumbles  lofty  forelts  headlong  to  the   plain. 

The  bold  Boruffian,   fmoking  from  afar, 
Moves  like  a  tempeil  in  a  dufky  clotid, 
And  imitates  th'artillery  of  Heaven, 
The  lightning  and  the  roar.      Amazing  fcene  ! 
What  fhowers  of  mortal  hail,  what  flaky  fires 
Burft  from   the  darknefs  !    while  their  cohorts  firm 
Met  the  like  thunder,  and  an   equal   ftorm 
From  hoftile  troops,  but  with  a  braver  mind. 
Undaunted  bofoms  tempt  the  edge  of  W3r, 
And  rufh  on  the  fnarp  point  ;    while  baleful  mifchiefs. 
Deaths,  and   bright  dangers,  flew  acrofs  the  field, 
Thick  and  continual,  and  a  thoufand  fouls 
Fled  murmuring  through  their  wounds.      I  flood  aloof> 
For  'twas  unfafe  to  come  within  the  wind 
Of  Ruffian  banners,  when  with   whizzing  found, 
Eager  of  glory  and  profufe  of  life, 
They  bore  down  fearlefs  on  the  charging  foes, 
And  drove  them  backward.      Then  the  Turkifh  moons 
Wander'd  in  difarray.      A  dark  eclipfc 
Hung  on  the  filver  crefcent,  boding  night, 
Long  night  to  all  her  fons  :   at  length  difrob'd, 
The  ftandards  fell  ;   the  barbarous  enfigns,  torn, 
Fled  with  the   wind,  the  fport  of  angry  Heav'n  ; 
And  a  large  cloud  of  infantry  and  ^jorfe, 
Scattering  in   wild  diforder,  fpread  the  plain. 

Not  noife,  nor  number,  nor  the  brawny  limb, 
Nor  high  built  fize,  prevails  ;   'Tis  courage  fights,  , 


(74       LTRIC    POEMS,      Book  II. 

•Tis  courage  conquers.      So  whole  fore  (Is  fall 
(A  fpacious  ruin)  by  one  fingle  ax, 
And  lltel  well  iharp'-r.td  :   fo  a  generous  pair 
Of  young-wing'd  eaglets  fright  a  thoufand  doves. 

Van!  was  thx  flaughter,  and  thV'flow'ry  green 
Drank  deep  oT  flowing  crimfon.      Vtteran  bands 
Here  made  their  lad  campaign.     Here  haughty  chiefs, 
S'tretch'd  on  the  bed  of  purple  honour,   lie 
Supine,  nor  dream  of  battle's  hard  event, 
Opprefs'd   with  iron  {lumbers  and  long  night. 
Their  gholls,  indignant,  to  the  nether  world 
Fled,  but  attended  well  :    for  at  their  fide 
Some  faithful  Janizaries    ftrew'd    the  field, 
Fall'n  in  jull  ranks  or  wedges,  lunes  or  fquares, 
Firm  as  they  ttood  ;    to  the  Warfovian  troops 
A   nobler  toil,   and  triumph  worth   their   fight. 
But  the  broad  fabre  and  keen  pole-ax  flew 
With  fpeedy  terror    through   the  feebler  herd, 
And  made  rude  Ravock  and    irregular   fpoil 
Amonsll  the  vulvar  Lands  that  own'd  the  name 
Of  Mahomet.      The  wild   Arabians  fled, 
Tp  fwift  affright,  a  thoufand  difftrent  ways, 
Through  brakes  and  thorns,    and   climb'd   the  craggy 

mountains, 
Bellowing  ;  yet  hafly  fate  overtook  the  cry, 
And  Polifli  hunters  clave  the  timotous  deer. 

Thus  the  dire  profpeel,  diftant,  fill'd  my  foul 
With  awe  ;   till  the  laft  relics  of  the  war, 
The  thin  Edonians.  flying,  had  difclos'd 
The  ghaftly  plain  :'  I  took  a  nearer  view, 
Unfeetnly  to  the  fight,   nor  to  the  fmell 
Grateful.      What  loads  of  mangled  flefh  and  limbc 
(A  difmal  carnage)   bath'd  in  reeking  gore, 
Lay  welt'ring  on  the  ground  !   while  flitting  life 
ConvuU'd  the  nerves,   tlill   fhivering,   nor  had  loft 
All  uftc  of  pain  :   Here  an  old  Thracian  lies, 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  I75 

Deform'd  with  years  and  fears,  and  groans  aloud, 

Torn  with  frefh   wounds  ;    but  inward  vitals  firm 

Forbid  the  foul's  remove,   and  chain  it   down, 

By  the  hard  laws  of  nature,   to  fuftain 

Long  torment  :    His  wide  eye-balls  roll  :    His  teeth, 

Gnafhing  with  anguifh,   chide  his  ling'ring  fate. 

Emblazon'd  armours  fpoke  his  high  command 

Among  the  neighbouring  dead  ;  they,  round  their  lord. 

Lay  proftrate  ;   fome  in  flight  ignobly  flain  ; 

Some  to  the  ikies  their  faces  upwards  turn'd, 

Still  brave,   and  proud  to  die  to  near  their  prince, 

I  mov'd  not  far,  and,  lo,  at  manly  length, 
Two  beauteous  youths,  of  richeft  Ott'man  blood, 
Extended  on  the  field  :    in   friendfhip  join'd, 
Nor  fate  divides  them  :    Hardy  warriors   both  ; 
Both  faithful  ;   drown'd   in  ihow'rs  of  darts   they  fell, 
Each  with  his  fliield  fpread  o'er  his  lover's  heart, 
In  vain  :    For  on  thofe  orbs  of  friendly  brafs 
Stood  groves  of  javelins  ;   fome,    alas  !   too  deep 
Were  planted  there,   and  through  their  lovely  bofoms 
Made  painful  avenues  for  cruel  death. 

0  my  dear  native   land,  forgive  the  tear 

1  dropt  on  their  wan  cheeks,  when  ftrong  cornpafilon 
Forc'd  from  my  melting  eyes  the   briny  dew, 

And  paid  a  facrifice  to  htfftile  virtue. 
Dacia,  forgive  the  figh  that  vvifli'd  the  fouls 
Of  thofe   fair  infidels  fome  humble   place 
Among  the  blefs'd.      "  Sleep,  fleep,  ye  haplefs  pair, 
"  Gently, ''  I  cry'd,    "  worthy  of  better   fate, 
"  And  better  faith."     Hard  by  the  General,  lay, 
Of  Saracen  defcent,    a  grifly  form, 
Breathlefs,   yet  pride  fat  pale  upon  his  front 
In  difappointment,  with  a  furly  brow 
Lowring  in  death,  and  vtx'd  ;    his  rigid  jaws, 
Foaming  with  blood,   bite  hard  the  Poliih  fpear  : 
In  that  dead  vifa^e  my  remembrance  reads 
Rafh  Caraccas :   In  vain  the  beading  flave 


176       LTRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

Promis'd  and  footh'd  the  Sultan,  threat'ning   fierce, 
"Wit h  royal  flippers  and   triumphant  fare 
Spread  wide  beneath   \Varf0vi3n  filk  and  gold  ; 
See  on  the  naked  ground  all  cold  he  lies, 
Beneath  the  damp  wide  covering  of  the  air, 
Forgetful  of  his  word.      How  Heaven   confounds 
Infulting  hope6  !     with  what  an  awful  fmile 
Laughs  at  the  proud,   that  looftn  all  the  reins 
To  their  unbounded  wifhes,  and  lead  on 
Their  blind  ambition  to  a  fhameful  end  ! 

But  whither  am  I  borne  !    This  thought  of  arm;; 
Fiies  me   in    vain  to  fing  to  fenfelefs  bulls 
What  generous  horfe  (honld  hear.     Break  off,  my  fong  ; 
My  barbarous  Mufe,  be  ft  ill  :   immortal  deeds 
Mull  not  be   thus  profan'd,  in  rultic  verfe  : 
The  martial  trumpet,  and  the  following  age, 
And  growing  fame,   (hall  loud  rehearfe  the  fight 
In  founds  of  glory.      Lo,   the  evening  liar 
Shines  o'er  the  weftern  hill  ;    my  oxen,  come, 
The  well-known  ftar  invites  the  labourer  home. 


TO      MR.     HENRY     BENDISH. 


Dear  Sir, 


Auguft  24,   17C5. 


THE  following  Song  was  yours  when  firft  com- 
pofed  :  The  Mufe  then  defcribed  the  general  fate  of 
mankind  (that  is)  to  be  ill-matched  ;  and  now  fhe  re- 
joices that  you  have  efcaped  the  common  mifchief, 
and  that  your  foul  has  found  its  own  mate.  Let  this 
Ode  then  congratulate  you  both.  Grow  mutually  in 
more  complete  likenefs  and  love  :  Perfevere,  and  be 
happy. 

I  perfuade  myfelf  you  will  accept  from  the  prefs 
what  the  pen  mere  privately  infen'bed  to  you  long  ago  ; 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  1 77 

and  I  am  in  no  pain  left  you  fhould  take  offence  at  the 
fabulous  drefsof  this  Poem  :  Nor  would  weaker  minds 
be  Vandalized  at  it,  if  they  would  give  themfeKes  leave 
to  refkc"t  how  many  divine  truths  are  fpoken  by  the 
holy'writers  in  vifions  and  images,  parables  and  dreams  : 
Nor  are  my  wifer  friends  afhamed  to  dtfend  it,  fince 
the  narrative  is  grave,  and  the  moral  fo  juft  and  obvious. 

THE    INDIAN   PHILOSOPHER. 

Sept.  3,    1701. 
I. 

W*HY  mould  our  joys  transform  to  pain  ? 
Why  gentle  Hymen's  fiiken  chain 

A   plague  of  iron   prove  ? 
BEND1SH,  'tis  ftm.ngc,  the  charm  that  hinds 
Millions  of  hands,  C.quld  leave  th.:ir  minds 

At  fuch  a  loofe  from  love  ! 
II. 
In  vain  I  fought  the  wondrcus  catife, 
Rang'd  the   wide  fields  of  nature'3  laws, 

And  urg'd  the  fchools  in  vain  ; 
Then,  deep  in  thought,  within  my  bread 
My  foul  retir'd,   and  {lumber  drefs'd 

A  bright  inltruciive  fcene. 
III. 
O'er  the  broad  buds,   and  crofs  the  tide, 
On  fancy's  airy   horfe  1  lide 

(Sweet  rapture  of  the  mind  !) 
Till  on   the   banks  of  Ganges    flood, 
In*a  tall  ancient  grove  I  ftood, 

For  facred  ufe  defign'd. 
IV. 
Hard  by,   a  venerable  pried, 
Ris'n  with  Lis  god  the  Sun,  from  reft, 

Awoke  his  morning   fong  ; 
Thrice  he  conjur'd  the  nuirm'ring  ftream  ; 
The  birth  of  fouls  was  all  his  theme, 

And  half  divine  his  tongue. 


178        LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  I; 
v. 

He  Tang,  "  Th'eternal  rolling  flame, 
"  That  vital  mafs,   that  Still  the  Same  ! 

"  Does  all  our  minds  compofe  : 
"  But  Pnap'd  in  twice  ten  thoufand  frames  ; 
"  Thence  diff'ring  fouls  of  diff'ring   names, 

"  And  jarring  tempers  rofe. 

vr. 

"  The  mighty  Pow'r  that  form'd  the  mind, 
"  One  mould  for  ev'ry  two  defign'd, 

"  And  blcfs'd    the   new-born  pair  : 
*'  This  be  a  match  for  this,  he  faid  ; 
"  Then  down  he  fent  the  fouls  he  made, 

"  To  feck  them  bodies  here  : 

VII. 
11  But,   parting  from  their  warm  abode, 
"  They  loft  their  fellows  on   the  road, 

"  And  never  join'd  their   hands. 
"  Ah  !   cruel  chance  and   crofling  fates  ! 
"  Our  eaftcrn  fouls  have  dropp'd  their  mates 

"  On  Europe's  barbarous  lands. 

VIII. 
*'  Happy  the  youth  that  finds  the  bride 
"  Whofe  birth  is  to  his  own  ally'd  ; 

"  The  fweeteft  joy  of  life  : 
"  But,  oh  !   the  crowds  of  wretched  fouls, 
"  Fetter'd  to  minds  of  different   mould?, 

"  And  chain'd  t'eternal   flrife  \" 

IX.  ' 

Thus  fang  the  wondrous  Indian  bard  ; 
My  foul  with  vail  attention   heard, 

While  Ganges  ceas'd  to  flow  : 
"  Sure,  then,"  I  cry'd,   "might  I  but  fee 
*.'  That  gentle  nymph  that   twinn'd  with  me, 

"  I  may  be  happy  too. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  I79 

X. 

11  Some  courteous  angel  tell  me   where, 
"  What  ditlant  lands  this  unknown  fair, 

"  Or  ditlant   i'cas  dttain  ? 
"  Swift  as  the  wheel  of  nature  rolls, 
"  I'd  ily  to  meet    and   mingle   fouls, 

"  And  wear  the  joyful  chain." 


THE     HAPPY      MAN. 

I. 

SERENE  as  light  is  MYRON's  foul, 
And  active  as  the  Sun,  yet  fteady  as  the  pole  : 

In  manly  beauty  fhines  his  face  ; 
Every  mufe,  and  every  grace, 

Makes  his  heart  and  tongue  their  feat  ; 
His  heart   profufely  good,  his  tongue  divinely  fweet. 

MYRON,  the  wonder  of  our  eyes, 

Behold  his  manhood  fcarce  begun  ! 

Behold  his  race  of  virtue  run  ! 

Behold  the  goal  of  glory  won  ! 
Nor  Fame  denies  the  merit,  nor  withholds  the  prize  : 
Her  filvcr  trumpets  hi?  renown   proclaim  : 

The  lands  where   learning  never  flew, 

Which  neither  Rome  nor  Athens  knew, 

Surely  Japan  and  rich  Peru, 
In  barbarous  fongs,  pronounce  the  Britifli  hero's  name. 

"  Airy  blifs,"  the  hero  cry'd, 
"  May  feed  the  tympany  of  pride  ; 
"  But  healthy  fouls  were  never  found 
"  To  live  on  emptinefs  and  found." 

II. 

Lo,  at  his  honourable  feet, 
Fame's  bright  attendant,  Wealth,  appears  ; 
She  comes  to  pay  obedience  meet, 
Providing  joys  for  future  years. 


1S0        LTRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

BhiTings  with  lavifh  hand  Hie  pours, 
Gather'd  from  the  Indian  coafl  ; 
Not  Dan'ae's  lap  could  equal  treafures  boaft, 
When  Jove  nme  down  in  golden  fhow'rs  : 

He  look'd  and   turn'd   his  eyes  away  ; 
With  high  difdain  I  heard  him  fay, 
"  Blifs  is  not  made  of  glitt'ring  clay.' 

III. 

Now  Pomp  and  Grandeur  court  his  head, 

Wiih  'fcutcheons,  aims,  and  enfigns  fpread, 
Gay  magnificence  and  (late, 

Guards  and  chariots  at   his  gate, 
And  flaves  in  cndlefs  order  round  his  table  wait  : 

They  learn  the  dictates  of  his  eyes  ; 

And  now  they  fall,  and  now   they  rife  : 

Watch  ev'ry  motion  of  their  lord  ; 
Kang  on  his  lips  with   moil  impatient  zeal  ; 
With  fwift  ambition  feize  th'nnfinifh'd  word, 
And  the  command  fulfil. 

Tir'd  with  the  train  that  grandeur  brings, 

He  dropp'd  a  tear,  and  pity'd  kings  : 

Then,  flying  from  the  noify  throng, 

Seeks  the  diverfion  of  a  fong. 

IV. 

Music,  defcending  on  a  filent  cloud, 

Tun'd  all  her  firings  with  endlefs  art  ; 

By  (low  degrees  from  foft  to  loud, 

Changing,  fhe  rofe  :   the  harp  and  flute, 
Harmonious,  join,  the  hero  to  falute, 

And  make  a  captive  of  his   heart. 
Fruits,  and  rich  Wink,  and  fcenes  of  lawlefs  Lovr. 

Each  with  utmoll  luxury    flrove 
To  treat  their  favourite   b<fl  ; 

But  founding  firings,  and  fruits,  and  wine, 

And  lawlefs  love,   in  vain  combine 
To  make  his  virtue  lleep,  or  lull  his  foul  to  reft 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C, 


181 


He  faw  the  tedious  round,  and,  with  a  figh, 

Pronounc'd  the  world  but  vanity. 

"  In  crowds  of  pleafure  ft  ill  I  find 

11  A  painful  folitude  of  mind  : 
<£  A  vacancy  within  which  fenfe  can  ne'er  fupply. 

"  Hence,  and  be  gone,  ye  flatt'ring  fnares, 

"  Ye  vulgar  charms  of  eyes  and  ears, 

11  Ye   unperforming  promifers  ! 

"  Be  all  my  bafer  paffions  dead, 

"  And  bafe  defires,  by  nature  made 
"  For  animals  and  boys  : 

"  Man  has  a  relifh  more  refin'd  ; 

"  Souls  are  for  focial  blifs  defign'd  : 
"  Give  me  a  bleffing  fit  to  match  my  mind, 
"  A  kindred  foul  to  double  and  to  (hare  my  joys." 

VI. 

MYRRH  A  appear'd  :    ferene  her  foul, 
And  a&ive  as  the  fun,  yet  fleady  as  the  pole  : 
In  fofter  beauties  fhone  her  face  ; 
Every  Mufe  and  every  grace 
Made  her  heart  and   tongue  their  feat  ; 
Her  heart  profufely  good,  her  tongue  divinely  fvfeet 
MYRRHA,   the  wonder  of  his  eyes  : 
Hi3  heart  recoil'd  with  fweet  furprize  ; 

With  joys  unknown  before  : 
His  foul  diffolv'd  in  pleafing  pain, 
Flow'd  to  his  eyes,  and  look'd  again, 

And  could  endure  no  more. 
"  Enough  !"  ih'impatient  hero  cries.. 

And  feiz'd  her  to  his  breaft  ; 
"  I  feek  no   more  below  the  Ikies  ; 

"  I  give  my  fiaves  the  reft.". 


R 


i*2       LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 


to    david    pol  hill,    esq.. 

♦an    answer  to  an    infamous    satire, 
called,   "advice  to  a  painter  ;" 

WRITTEN    BY    A    NAMELESS    AUTHOR, 
AGAINST     K.    WILLIAM    III.     OF     GLORIOUS      MEMORY, 


1698. 


Sir, 


'  WHEN  you  put  this  Satire  into  my  hand,  you  gave 
mt  the  occaiion  of  employing  my  pen  to  arifwer  fo  de- 
legable a  writing  ;  which  might  be  done  much  more 
effectually  by  your  known  zeal  for  the  intereit  of  hij 
Majefly,  your  connfels  and  courage  employed  in  the 
defence  of  your  king  and  country.  And  fince  you 
provoked  me  to  write,  you  will  accept  of  thefe  efforts 
of  my  loyalty  to  the  bell  of  kings,  addrefled,  to  one 
of  the  moll  zealous  of  his  fubje&s,   by 

Sir, 

Your  moft  obedient  fervant, 

I.  W. 

PART      FIRST. 

AND    mufl  the  Hero  that  redeem'd  our  land, 
Here  in  the  front  of  vice  and  fcandal    Hand  ? 
The  man  of  wondrous  foul,  that  feorn'd  his  eafe, 
Tempting  the   winters  and  the  failhlefs  feas, 
Aiid  paid  an  annual  tribute  of  his  life 
To  guard  his  England  from  the  Irifh  knife,         [name, 
And  crufh  the  French    dragoon  ?    Mull  WILLIAM'S 
That  brighter!  ftar  that  gilds  the  wings  of  fame  ; 
WILLIAM  the  brave,   the  pious,  and  thejuft, 
Adorn  thefe  gloomy  fcenes  of  tyranny  and  lull  ? 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C. 


^3 


Polhill,  my  blood  boils  high,  ray  fpirits  flame  ;  ~j 
Can  your  zeal  fleep  ?  Or  are  your  paffious  tame  ?      > 
Nor  call  revenge  and  darknefs  on  the  poet's  name  ;  J 
Why  fmoke  the  flues  not  ?  Why  no  thunders  roll  ? 
Nor  kindling  lightnings  blaft  his  guilty  foul  ? 
Audacious  wretch  !   to  flab  a  monarch's  fame, 
And  fire  his  fnbjefts  with  a  rebel  flame  ! 
To  call  the  painter  to  his  black  defigns   ; 
To  draw  our  Guardian's  face  in  hellifh  lines  : 
Painter,  beware  !   the   Monarch   can  be  mown 
Under  no  fliape  but  angels,  or  his  own  ; 
GABRIEL,  or  WILLIAM, on  the  Britifh  throne 


i 


Oh  !   could  my  thought  but  grafp  the  vafl  defign, 
And  words  with  infinite  ideas  join, 
I'd  roufe  Apelles  from  his  iron   fleep, 
And  bid  him  trace  the  warrior  o'er  the  deep  : 
Trace  him,  Apelles,  o'er  the    Belgian  plain,  1 

Fierce,  how  he  climbs  the  mountains  of  the  flain,       j 
Scattering  juft  vengeance  thro'  the  red  campaign  .'     J 
Then  dafh  the  canvas  with  a  flying  llroke, 
Till  it  be  loft,  in  clouds  of  fire  and  fnoke, 
And    fay,  'iwas  thus  the  Conqueror  thro'  the  fqua^ 

drons   broke  ! 
Mark  him  again  emerging  from  the  cloud, 
Far  from  his  troops  ;   there  like    a  rock  he  flood, 
His  country's  fingle  barrier,   in  a  fea   of  blood  ! 
Calmly  he  leaves  the  pleafures  of  a  throne, 
And  his  MARIA  weeping  ;    whilft  alone 
He  wards  the  fate  of  nations,  and  provokes  his  own. 
But  Heav'rt  fecures  its  Champion  ;  o'er  the  field 
Paint  hov'ring  angels  :   though  they  fly  conceal'd, 
Each  intercepts  a  death,  and  wears  it  on  his  fhield. 

Now,  noble  pencil,  lead  him  to  our  ifle  ; 
Mark  how  the  flcies  with  joyful  luftre  fmile, 
Then  imitate  the  glory  ;  on   the  flrand 
Spread  half  the  nation,  longing  till  he  land. 


284       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 


Warn  olT  the  blood,  and  take  a  peaceful  teint  ; 

All  red  the  warrior,  white  the  ruler  paint  ; 

Abroad  a  hero,  and  at  home  a  faint. 

Throne  him  on  high  upon  a  mining  feat, 

Lull  and  profanenefs   dying  at  his  feet, 

While  round  his  head  the  laurel  and  the  olive  mee 

The  crowns  of  war  and  peace  ;  and  may  they  blow 

With  flciw'ry  bleffings  ever  on  his  brow  ! 

At  his  right  hand  pile  up  the  Englifh  lawa 

In  facred  volumes  :   thence  the  monarch  draws 

His  wife  and  juli  commands  ! . 

Rife,  ye  old  fages  of  the  Britith  ifle  ; 

On  the  fair  tablet  cad  a  reverend  fmile, 

And   blcfs  the  piece  ;    thefe  ftatutes  are  your  own, 

That  fway  the  cottage  and  direft  the  throne  ; 

People  and  Prince  are  one  in  WILLIAM'S  name; 

Their  joys,  their  dangers,  and  their  laws  the  fame 

Let  liberty  and  right,  with  plumetdifplay'd, 
Clap  their  glad  wings  around  their  Guardian's  head 
Religion  o'er  the  rell  her  ftarry  pinions  fpread. 
Religion  guards  him  ;   round  th'imperial  queen 
Place  waiting  virtues,  each  of  heav'nly    mein  ; 
Learn  their  bright  air,  and   paint  it  from   his  eyes: 
The  juft,  the  bold,  the  temperate,  and  the  wife, 
Dwell  in  his  looks  ;    majeflic,  but  ferene  ; 
Sw 
Brigft  ;   g 


} 

J 


•} 


IIC       lull,      L  i  I V      UU1U,     UIC      LCUI  Lfl  1  aiK.  ,       ailU       111'-        IY11V., 

)well  in  his  looks  ;    majeflic,  but  ferene  ;  "1 

weec,  with  no  fondnefs  ;  cheerful,  but  not  vain  ;     > 
liight,  without  terror  ;   great,  without  difdain.         J 
His  foul  infpires  us  what  his  lips  command,   .         I 
And  fpreads  his  brave  example  through   the  land. 

Not  fo  the  former  reigns  ; 

Bend  down  his  ear  to  each  afflicted  cry, 
Let  beams  of  grace  dart  gently  from  his  eye  ; 
But  the  bright   treafures  of-his  facred  bread 
Are  too  divine,    too   valt,  to  be  exprefs'd  ! 
Colours  mud  fail  where  words  and  numbers  faint, 
And  leave  the  hero's  heart  for  thought  alone  to  paint. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  T  85 

PART      SECOND, 

NOW,  Mufe,  purfue  the  fatirift  again  ; 
Wipe  off  the  blots  of  his  invenom'd  pen. 
Hark,  how  he  bids  the  fervile  painter  draw, 
In  monftrous  fhapes,  the  patrons  of  our  law  j 
At  one  flight  dafh  he  cancels  every  name 
From  the  white  roll  of  honefly  and  fame  ; 
This  fcribbling   wretch  marks  all  he  meets  for  knave  ; 
Shoots  fudden  bolts,  promifcuous,  at  the  bafe  and  brave, 
And,  with  unpardonable  malice,  ffieds 
Poifon   and  fpite  on  undiilinguifh'd  h«;ads. 
Painter,  forbear,  or,   if  thy  bolder  hand 
Dares  to  attempt  the  villains  of  the  land, 
Draw  firlt  this  poet,  like  fome  baleful  flar, 
With  filent  influence,  fliedding  civil  war, 
Or  factious  trumpeter,  whofe  magic  found  "J 

Calls  off  the  fubjefts  to  the  hoilile  ground,  > 

And  fcatters  hellifh  K-uds  the  nation  round.  J 

Thefe  are  the  imps  of  hell,  that  curfed  tribe 
That  find  create  the  plague,  and  then  the  pain  defcribe. 

Draw  next  above,  the  great  ones  of  our  ifle, 
Still  from  the  good  diilir.guifhing  the  vile  ; 
Seat  'em  in  pomp,  in  grandeur,  and  command, 
Peeling  the  fubjects  with  a  greedy  hand  : 
Paint  forth  the  knaves  that  ha«fc  their  nation  fold, 
And  tinge  their  greedy  looks  with  fordid  gold. 
Mark  what  a  felfifh  faflion   undermines 
The  pious  monarch's  generous  defigns  ; 
Spoil  their  own  native  land  as  vipers  do, 
Vipers  that   tear  their  mother's  bowels  through. 
L.et  great  Naffau,  beneath  a   careful  crown,      -j 
Mournful  in  majeily,  look  gently  down,  > 

Mingling  foft  pity  with  an  awful  frown  :  j 

He  grieves  to  fee  how  long  in   vain  he  drove 
To  make  us  blefs'd,  how  vain  his  labours  prove 
To  fave  the  flubborn  land  he  condefcends  to  love. 
R  2 


286        LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 


TO    THE    DISCONTENTED    AND    UNQUIET, 
Imitated  partly  from  Casimire,  B.  iv.  Od.  15. 

VARIA,  there's  nothing  here  that's  free 
From   vrearifome  anxiety  ; 
And  the  whole  round  of  mortal  joys 
With  fhort  poffeffion  tires  and  cloys  : 
^Tis  a  dull  circle   that  we  tread, 
Juft  from  the  window  to  the  bed  : 
We  rife  to  fee  and  to  be  feen, 
Gaze  on  the  world  a  while,  and  then.    \ 
We  yawn,  and  ftretch  to  fleep  again.      J 
But  Fancy,   that  uneafy  gueft, 
Still  hold:;  a  lodging  in  our  breaft  ; 
She  finds  or  frames  vexations  ftill  ; 
Herfelf  the  greateft  plague  we  feel. 
'We  take  itrange  pleafure  in  our  pain, 
And  make  a   mountain  of  a  grain  ; 
Aflume  the  load,  and  pant  and  fweat 
Beneath    th'imaginary  weight. 
With  our  dear  felves  we  live  at  ftrife, 
While  the  moft  conftant  fcenes  of  life 
From  peevifh.  humours  are  not  free, 
Still  we  alfeft  variety, 
Rather  than  pafs  an  eafy  day, 
We  fret  and  chide  the  hours  away  ; 
Grow  weary  of  this  circling  fun, 
And   vex   that  he   mould  ever  run 
.The  fame  old  track,  and  (till,  and  ftill. 
Rife  red  behind  yon  eaftern  hill  ; 
And  chide  the  moon,    that  darts  her  light 
Through  the  fame  cafement  every  night. 

We  fhift  our  chambers  and  our  homes, 
To  dwell  where  trouble  never  comes. 
Sylvia  has  left  the  city  crowd, 
Againlt  the  court  exclaims  aloud, 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  1S7 

Flies  to  the  woods  ;  a  hermit  faint  ! 
She  loaths  her  patches,  pins,  and  paint  ; 
Dear  diamonds  from  her   neck  are  torn  : 
But  Humour,   that  eccrnal  thorn, 
Sticks  in  her  heart  :   file's  hurry'd  (till, 
Twixt  her  wild   paflions  and  her  will  : 
Haunted  and  hagg'd  where'er  file  roves, 
By  purling  ftreams,  and  filent  groves, 
Or  with  her  furies  or  her  loves. 


i 


Then  our  own  native  land  we  hate  ; 

Too  cold,  >oo  windy,  or  too  wet  ; 

Change  the  thick  climate,  and  repair 
•To  France  or  Italy  for  air. 

In  vain  we  change,  in  vain  we  fly  ; 

Go,  Sylvia,  mount  the  whirling   fky, 

Or  ride  upon  the  feaiher'd   wind 

In  vain  ;   if  this  dif&afed  mind 

Clings  faft,  and  ftill  fits  clofe  behind. 
•Faithful  difeafe,   that  never  fails 

Attendance  at  her  lady'6   fide,      * 

Over  the  defart  or  the  tide, 

On  rolling  wheels,  or  flying  fails. 

Happy  the  foul  that  virtue  mows 
To  fix  the  place  of  her  repofe, 
Needlefs  to  move  ;  for  fhc  can  dwell 
In  her  old  grandhre's  hall  as  well. 
Virtue,  that  never  loves  to  roam, 
But  fweetly  hides  herftlf  at  home  ; 
And,  eafy,  on  a  native  throne 
Of  humble  turf,  fits  gently  down. 

Yet,  fhcnld  tumultuous  dorms  arife, 
And  mingle  earth,  and  feas,  and  fkies  ; 
Should  the  waves  fwell,  and  make  her  roll 
Acrofs  the  line,  or  near  the  pole, 


! 


83        LTRTC    POEMS,     Book  II, 


for  well  fhe  knows 


Still  f!ie' 3  ctt  peace 

To  launch  the 

And  makes  her  nome  wnere'er  Hit-  goes. 

Bear  her,    ye  feas,   upon  your  brealt. 

Or  waft  her,  winds,   from  eaft.   to  wed 

On    the  foft  air  :    fhe  cannot   find 

A  couch  fo  eafy  as  her  rnind, 

Nor  breathe  a  climate  half  fo  kind. 


tace  ;  lor  wen  lne  knows  -» 
ft  ream  thai  duty  fhows,  > 
r  home  where'er  flit-  goes.    3 


I 


TO     JOHN      HARTOPP,     ESQ^. 

(Now  Sir  John  Hartopp,  Bart.) 

Casimire,   B.  i.    Od.  4.   imitated. 

Vive ,  jucunda  metuens  juventa,  &c. 

July,   1703. 
I. 

LIVE,  my  dear  HARTOPP,  live  to-day, 
Nor  let  the  fun  look  down  and  fay, 

"  Inglorious  here  he  lies  ;" 
Shake  off  your,eafe,  and  fend  your  name 
To  immortality   and   fame, 

By  ev'ry  hour  that   flies. 
II. 
Youth's  a  foft  fcene,  but  truft.  her  not  : 
Her  airy  minutes,    fwift  as  thought, 

Slide  off  the  flipp'ry  fphere. 
Moons  with  their  months  make  hafty  rounds  ; 
The  fun   has  pafs'd  his  vernal  bounds, 

And  whirls  about  the  year. 
III. 
Let  folly  drefs  in  green  and  red, 
And  gird  her  waift  with  flowing  gold, 
Knit  blufhing  rofes  round  her  head  ; 
Alas  !   the  gaudy  colours  fade, 

The  garment  waxes  old. 
HARTOPP,   mark  the  withering  rofe, 
And  the  pale  gold,  how  dim  it  fhows  ! 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  189 

IV. 

Bright  and   hfting  blifs  below 

Is  all  romance  and  dream  ; 
Only  the  joys  celeftial  flow 

In  an  eternal   dream. 
The  pleafures  that  the  fmiling  day 

With  large  right  hand  beftows, 
Falfely  her  left   conveys  away, 

And  fhufflcs  in  our^oes. 
So  have  1  feeu  a  mother  play, 

And  cheat  htr   filly  child  ; 
She  gave  and  took  a  toy  away, 

The  infant  cry'd  and  fmil'd. 

V. 

Airy  chance  and  iron    fate 
Hurry  and  vex   our  mortal  (late, 
And  all  the  race  of  ills  create  ; 
Now  fiery  joy,   now  fullen  grief, 
Commands  the  reins  of  human  life  ; 

The  wheels  impetuous  roll  ; 
The  harnefs'd  hours  and  minutes  drive, 
And  days  with  ftretching  pinions  drive——* 

down  fiercely  on  the  goal. 

VI. 
Not  half  fo  faft  the  galley  flies 

O'er  the  Venetian  fea, 
When  fails,  and  oars,  and  lab'ring  Ikies, 

Contend  to  make  her  way. 
Swift  wings  for  all  the  flying  hours 

The  God  of  time  prepares  ; 
The  reft  lie  dill  yet  in  their  neft, 

And  grow  for  future  years. 


190       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II, 


TO    THOMAS     GUNSTON,    ESQ_. 

HAPPY    SOLITUDE. 
Casimire,  Book  iv.  Od.  iz.  imitated. 

Shitd  me  latentem,   &c.  1  70c. 

I. 

THE  noify  world  contains  of  me 
That  I  mould  fhun  tneir  fight  and  flee 
Vifits,  and  crowds,  and  company. 
GUNSTON,   the  lark  dwells  in  her  neft 

Till   (he  afcend  the  fkies  : 
And  in  my  clofet   I  could   reft 
Till  to   the  Heavens  I  rife. 
II. 
Yet  they   will  urge,   "  This  private  life 

"  Can  never   make  you  blefs'd  ; 
"  And  twenty  doors  are  flill  at  ftrife 

"  T'engage  you  for  a  gueft." 
Friend,   fiiould  the  towers  of  Windfor  or  Whitehall 
Spread  open  their  inviting  gates 
To  make  my  entertainment  gay, 
I  would  obey  the    royal  call, 

But  fhort  mould  be  my  (lay, 
Since  a  dinner  fervice  waits 
T'employ  my  hours  at  home,  and  better  fill  the  day. 
III. 
When  I  within  myfelf  retreat, 
I  fli  ut  my  doors  again  ft  the  great  ; 
My  bufy  eye-balls  inward  roll, 
And  there  with   large  furvey  I  fee 
All  the  wide  theatre  of  me, 
And  view  the  various  fcenes  of  my  retiring  foul  ; 
There  I  walk  o'er  the  mazes  1  have  trod, 
While  hope  and  fear  are  in  a  doubtful  ftrife, 

Whether  this  opera  of  life 
Be  afted  well  to  gain  the  plaudit  of  my  God. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  I91 

IV. 

There's  a  day  haft'ning  ('tis  an  awful  day  !) 
When  the  g;eat  Sovereign  (hall  at  large  review 

All  that   vve  fpeak  and   all  we  do  ; 
The  fcveral  parts  we  act  on  this  wide  Aage  of  clay  : 

Thefe  he  approves,   and  thofe   he  blames, 
And  crowns  perhaps  a  porter,   and  a  prince  he  damns. 
Oh!    if  the  Judge  from  his  tremendous  feat 
Shall  not  condemn  what  I  have  done, 
I  fhall  he  happy,    though  unknown, 
Nor  heed  the  gazing  rabble,  nor  the  (houting  ftreet. 
V. 
I  hate  the  Glory,  friend,   that  fprings 
From  vulgar  breath  and  empty   found  ; 
Fame  mounts  her  upward  with  a  flatt'ring  gale 

Upon  her  airy  wings, 
Till  Envy  (hoots,  and  Fame  receives  the  wound  ; 
Then  her  flagging  pinions  fail  ; 
Down  Glory  falls  and  ftrikes  the  ground. 
And  breaks  her  batter'd    limbs, 
Rather  let  me  be  quite  conceal'd  from  Fame  ; 
How  happy  I  fliould  lie 
In   fweet   obfeurity, 
Nor  the  loud  world  pronounce  my  little  name  ! 
Here  I  could  live  and  die  alone  ; 
Or  if  fociety  be  due 
To  keep  our  tafte  of  pleafure  new, 

GUNSTON,  I'd  live  and  die  with  you  ; 
For  both  our  fouls  are  one. 

VI. 
Here  we  could  fit  and  pafs  the  pleafing  hour, 

And  pity  kingdoms  and  their  kings, 

And  fmile  at  all  their  fhining  things, 
Their  toys  of  (late,  and  images  of  pow'r  ; 

Virtue  fliould  dwell  within  our  feat, 

Virtue  alone  could  make  it  fweet, 
Nor  is  herft-lf  fecute,  but  in  a  clofe  retreat,, 


192       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

While  /he  withdraws  from  public  praifc, 
Envy,  perhaps,  would  ceafe  to    rail, 

Envy   itfelf  may  innocently  gaze 
At  beauty  in  a   veil  : 
But  if  fhe  once  advance  to  light, 
Her  charms  are  loft  in  Envy's  fight, 

And  Virtue  ftands  the  mark  of  univerfal  fpite. 


TO     JOHN     HARTOPP,     ESQ^. 

(Now  Sir  John  Hartopp,  Bart.) 

THE    DISDAIN. 

I. 


1704. 


HARTOPP,  I  love  the  foul  that  dares 
Tread  the  temptations  of  his  years 
Beneath  his  youthful  feet  : 
FLEETWOOD,  and  all  thy  heavenly  line, 
Look  through  the  ftars,  and  fmile  divine 

Upon  an  heir  fo  great. 
Young  HARTOPP  knows  this  noble  theme, 
That  the  wild  fcenes  of  bufy  life, 
The  noife,  th'amufements,  and  the  ftrife, 
Are  but  the  vifions  of  the   night, 
Gay  phantoms  of  dtlufive  light, 

Or  a  vexatious  dieam. 
II. 
Flefh  is  the  vileft  and  the  lead 

Ingredient  of  our  frame  : 
We're  born  to  live  above  the  beaft, 

Or  quit  the  manly  name. 
Pleafures  of  fenfe  we  leave  for  boys  ; 
Be  fliining  duft  the  mifer's  food  ; 
Let  fancy  feed  on  fame  and  noife, 
Souls  muft  purfue  diviner  joys, 

And  feize  th'immcrtal  good. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  I9J 


TO     MITIO,     MY     F  R  I  E  N  D . 
AN      HPISTLE. 

FORGIVE  me,  Mitio,  that  there  mould  be  any 
mortifying  lines  in  the  following  Poems  inferibed  to 
you,  fo  foon  after  your  entrance  into  that  ftate  which 
was  defigned  for  the  completed  happinefs  on  earth  ; 
but  you  will  quickly  difcover,that  the  Mufe  in  the  firft 
Poem  only  reprefents  the  (hades  and  dark  colours  that 
melancholy  throws  upon  love,  and  the  focial  life.  In 
the  fecond,  perhaps  (he  indulges  her  own  bright  ideas 
a  little.  Yet  if  the  accounts  are  but  well  balanced  at 
laft,  and  things  fet  in  a  due  light,  I  hope  there  is  no 
ground  for  cenfure.  Here  you  will  find  an  attempt 
made  to  talk  of  one  of  the  mod  important  concerns  of 
human  nature  in  verfe,  and  that  with  a  folemnity  be- 
coming the  argument.  I  have  banifhed  grimace  and 
ridicule,  that  perfons  of  the  mod  ferious  character  may 
read  without  offence.  What  was  written  feveral  years 
ago  to  yourfelf,  is  now  permitted  to  entertain  the 
world  ;  but  you  may  aflume  it  to  yourfelf  as  a  private 
entertainment  ftill,  while  you  lie  concealed  behind  a 
feigned  name. 

THE    MOURNING    PIECE. 

LIFE's  a  long  tragedy  :   this  globe  the  flage 
Well  fix'd  and  well  adorn'd  with  ftrong  machines, 
Gay  fields,  and  fkies,  and  feas  :  the  a&ors  many  ; 
The  plot  immenfe.     A  flight  of  Dajmons  fit 
On  every  failing  cloud  with  fatal  purpofe, 
And  fnoot  acrofs  the  fcenes  ten  thoufand  arrows 
Perpetual  and  unfeen,  headed  with  pain, 
With  furrow,    infamy,  diftafe,  and  death. 
The  pointed  plagues  fly  filcnt  through  the  air, 
Nor  twangs  the  bow,  yet  fure  and  deep  the  wound 


194       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

Dianthe  a&s  her  little  part  alone, 
Nor  willies  an  afTociate  ;  lo,  ftie  glides 
•Single  through  all  the  ftorm,  and  more  fecure  ; 
Lefs  are  her  dangers,  and  her  bread  receives 
Thefeweft  darts.     "  But,  O  my  lov'd  Marilla, 
"  My  fifter,  once  my  friend,"  Dianthe  cries, 
*'  How  much  art  thou  expos'd  !   Thy  growing  foul 
ts  Doubled  in  wedlock,  multiply'd  in  children, 
*'  Stands  but  the  broader  mark  for  all  the  mifchiefs 
"  That  rove  promifcuous  o'er  the  mortal  ft  age  : 
41  Children, thofe  dear  young  limbs, thofe  tendered  pieces 
"  Of  your  own  flefti,  thofe  little  other  felves, 
"  How  they  dilate  the  heart  to  wide  dimenfions, 
61  And  foften  every  fibre  to  improve 
**  The  mother's  fad  capacity  of  paifl  ! 
*'  I  mourn  Fidelio  too  :  though  Heaven  has  chofc 
11  A  favourite  mate,  for  him,  of  all  her  fcx 
"  The  pride  and  flower.      How  blefs'd  the  lovely  pair 
"  Beyond  cxpreffion,   if  well  Tningled   loves, 
11  And  woes  well  mingled,  could  improve  our  blifs  ! 
"  Amid  ft  the  rugged  cares  of  life,  behold 
"The  father  and  the  hulband  ;  flattering  names. 
••  That  fpread  his  title,  and  enlarge  his  (hare 
"  Of  common  wretchednefs.      He  fondly  hopes 
"  To  multiply  his  joys  ;  but  every  hour 
"  Renews  the  difappointment  and  the  fmart. 
"  There's  not  a  wound  afflicts  the  meanefl  joint 
«'  Of  his  fair  partner,  or  her  infant  train 
il  (Sweet  babes  !)  but  pierces  to  his  inmoft  foul. 
"  Strange  is  thy  pow'r,  O  love  !  what  numerous  veins, 
"  And  arteries,  and  arms,  and  hands,  and  eyes, 
*'  Are  link 'd  and   faften'd  to  a  lover's  heart 
"  By  ftiong  but  fecret  firings  !    With  vain  attempt 
«<  We  put  the  ftoic  on  ;    in  vain  we   try 
•*'  To  break  the  ties  of  nature  and  of  blood  ; 
*'  Thofe  hidden  threads  maintain  the  dear  communion 
•«'  Inviolably  firm  ;   their  thrilling  motions, 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  1 95 

,{  Reciprocal,  give  endlefs  fympathy 
M  In  all  the  bitters  and  the  fweets  oflife. 
»'  Thrice  happy  man,  if  plcafure  only  knew 
"  Thefe  avenues  of  love  to  reac,h  our  fouls, 
««  And  pain  had  never  found  'em  !" 

Thus  fang  the  tuneful  maid,  fearful  to  try 
The  bold  experiment.      Oft  Daphnis  came, 
And  oft  Narciffus,  rivals  of  her  heart, 
Luring  her  eyes  with  trifles  dipt  in    gold, 
And  the  gay  filken  bondage.     Firm  (he  flood, 
And  bold  repuls'd  the  bright  temptation  dill, 
Nor  pot  the  chains  on  ;   dangerous  to  try, 
And  hard  to  be  diflolv'd.      Yet  rifing  tears 
Sat  on  her  eye-lids,  while  her  numbers  flow'd 
Harmonious  forrow  ;  and  the  pitying  drops 
Stole  down  her  cheeks,  to  mourn  the  haplefs  ftatc 
Of  mortal  lov».      Love,  thou  bed;  bleffmg  fent 
To  foften  life,  and  make  our  iron  cares 
Eafy  :    but  thy  own  carfs,  of  fofter  kind, 
Give  (harper  wounds  ;   they  lodge  too   near  the  heart, 
Beat  like  the  pulfe,  perpetual,  and  create 
A  ftrange  uneafy  fenfe,  a  tempting  pain. 

Say,  my  companion  Mitio,  fpeak  fincere, 
(For  thou  art  learned  now)  what  anxious  thoughts, 
What  kind  perplexities,  tumultuous,  rife, 
If  but  the  abfence  of  a  day  divide 
Thee  from  thy  fair  belov'd  !   vainly  fmiles 
The  cheerful  fun,  and  night   with  radiant  eyes 
Twinkles  in  vain  :   The  region  of  thy  foul 
Is  darkneis,  till  thy  better  ftar  appear.  jp 

Tell  me  what  toil,   what  torment,  to  fuflain 
The  rolling  burden  of  the  tedious  hours  ? 
The  tedious  hours  are  ages.      Fancy  roves, 
Reftlefs,  in  fond  enquiry,   nor  believes 
Chariffa  fafe  ;  Charifla,  in  whofe  life 
Thy  life  confills,  and  in  her  comfort  thine, 


196       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

Fear  and  formife  put  on  a  thoufand  forms 

Of  dear  difquietude,  and  round  thine  ears 

Whifper  ten  thoufand  dangers,  endlefs  woes, 

Till  thy  frame  fhtidders  at  her  fancy'd  death  ! 

Then  dies  my  Mitio,  and  his  blood  creeps  cold 

Through  every  vein  !   Speak,  does  the  ft  ranger  Miife 

Caft  happy  guefTes  at  the  unknown  paffion, 

Or  has  fhe  fabled  all  ?   Inform  me,  friend, 

Are  half  thy  joys  fincere  ?  thy  hopes  fulfilPd 

Or  fruftrate  f  Here  commit  thy  fecret  griefs 

To  faithful  ears,  and  be  they  bury'd  here 

In  friendfhip  and  oblivion,  left  they  fpoil 

Thy  new-born  pleafures  with  diftallcful  gall. 

Nor  let  thine  eyes  too  greedily  drink  in 

The  frightful  profpedl,  when  untimely  death 

Shall  make  wild  inroads  on  a  parent's  heart, 

And  his  dear  offspring  to  the  cruel  grave 

Are  dragg'd,  in  fad  fucceffitui,  w  hile  his  foul 

Is  torn  away  piece-meal.      Tljus  dies  the  wretch 

A  various  death,  and  frequent,  ere  he  quit 

The  theatre,  and  make  his  exit  final. 

But  if  his  deareft  half,  his  faithful  mate, 
Survive,  and  in  the  fvveeteft,  faddcil  airs 
Of  love  and  grief,  approach  with  trembling  band 
To  clofe  his'fwimming  eyes,  what  double  pang3, 
What  racks,  what  twinges,  rend  his  heart-firings  off 
From  the  fair  bofom  of  that  fellow-dove 
He  leaves  behind  to  mourn  !    What  jealous  cares 
Hang  on  his  parting  foul,  to  think  his  love 
Expos'd  to  wild  oppreffion,  and  the  herd 
Of  favage  men  !   So  parts  the  dying  turtle 
With  fobbing  accents,  with    fuch  fad  regret 
Leaves  his  kind  feather'd  mate  :   the  widow  bird 
Wanders  in  lonefome  fhades,  forgets  her  food, 
Forgets  her  life  ;  or  falls  a  fpeedier  prey 
To  talon'd  faulcons,  and  the  crooked  beak 
Of  hawks  athirft  for  blood. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C. 


197 


THE    SECOND    PART , 
OR,    THE    BRIGHT    VISION. 

THUS  far  the  Mufe,  in  unaccuftom'd  mood, 
And  drains  unpleafing  to  a  lover's  ear, 
Indulg'd  a  gloom  of  thought  ;   and  thus  fhe  fang, 
Partial  ;  for  Melancholy's  hateful  form 
Stood  by  in  fable  robe.      The  penfive  Mufe 
Survey'd  the  darkfome  fcenes  of  life,  and  fought 
Some  bright  relieving  glimpfe,  fome  cordial  ray, 
In  the  fair  world  of  love  ;    but  while  fhe  gaz'd, 
Delightful,  on  the  ftate  of  twin-born  fouls 
United,  blefs'd,  the  cruel  fliade  apply'd 
A  dark  long  tube,  and  a  falfe  tindtur'd  glafs, 
Deceitful  ;   blending  love  and  life  at  once 
In  darknefs,  chaos,  and  the  common  mafs 
Of  mifery.      Now  Urania  feels  the  cheat, 
And  breaks  the  hated  optic  in  difdain. 
Swift  vanifhes  the  fullen  form,  and,  lo,  . 
The  fcenes  mine  bright  with  blifs  :  behold  the  place 
Where  mifchiefs  never  fly,  cares  never  come 
With  wrinkled  brow,  nor  anguifh,  nor  difeafe, 
Nor  malice,  forky-tongu'd.     On  this  dear  foot, 
Mitio,  my  love  would  fix  and  plant  thy  flation 
To  aft  thy  part  of  life  ferene  and  blefs'd 
With  the  fair  confort  fitted  to  thy  heart. 

Sure,  'tis  a  vifion  of  that  happy  grove 
Where  the  firft  authors  of  our  mournful  race 
Liv'd  in  fvrett  partnership  !    One  hour  they  liv'd, 
But  chang'd  the  tailed  blifs  (imprudent  pair  !) 
For  fin  and  fhame,  and  this  vail  wildernefs 
Of  briers,  and  nine  hundred  years  of  pain. 
The  wifhing  Mufe  new  drefles  the  fair  garden 
Amid  this  defert  world,  with  budding  blif?, 
Sz 


198        LTRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 

And  evergreens,  and  balms,  and  flow'ry  beauties, 

Witkout  one  dangerous  tree  :   There  hea»'nly  dews, 

Nightly  defcending,  fhall  impeail  the-  grafs 

And  verdant  herbage  ;  drops  of  fragrancy 

Sit  trembling  on  the  fpires  ;  the  fpicy  vapours 

Rife  with  the  dawn,   and,  through  the  air  diffus'd, 

Salute  your  waking  fenfes  with    perfume  ; 

While  vital  fruits,  with  their  ambroftal  juice*, 

Renew  life's  purple  flood  and  fountain  pure 

From  vicious  taint  ;   and  with  your  innocence 

Immortalize  the  ftrncture  of  your  clay. 

On  this  new  paradife  the  cloudlcfs  flues 

Shall  fmile  perpetual,  while  the  lamp  of  day, 

With  flames  unfully'd    (as  the  fabled  torch 

Of  Hymen)  meafurcs  out  your  golden  hours 

Along  his  azure  load.     The  nuptial  moon, 

In  milder  rays  ferene,    fhould  nighty  rife, 

Full  orb'd  (if  Heaven  and  nature  will  indulge 

So  fair  an  emblem)  big  with  fllver  joys, 

And  ftill  forget  her  wane.     The  feathcr'd  choir, 

Warbling  their  Maker's  praife  on  early  wing, 

Or  ptrch'd  on  ev'ning  bough,  fhall  join  your  worfliip,, 

join  your  fweet  vefpers,  and  the  morning  fong. 

O  facred  fymphony  !   Hark:,  through  the  grove 
I  hear  the'found  divine  i    I'm  all  attention, 
All  ear,  all  ecftacy  ;   unknown  delight  ! 
And  the  fair  Mufe  proclaims  the  Heav'n  below, 

Not  the  feraphic  minds  of  high  degree 
Difdain  converfe  with  men  :    again  returning, 
J  fee  th'ethcreal  hoil  on  downward  wing. 
Lo,  at  the  eaftern  gate  young  cherubs. ftand 
Guardians,  commifijon'd  to  convey  their  joys 
To  earthly  lovers.     Go,  yc  happy  pair, 
Go,  tafte. their  banquet,  learn  their  nobler  plcafurtL 
Supernal,  and  from  brutal  dregs  refin'd. 
Raphael  fhall  teach  thee,  friend;  exalted  thought? 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C. 


99 


And  Intellectual  blifs.     'Twas  Raphael  taught 

The  patriarch  of  our  progeny  th 'affairs 

Of  Heaven    (fo  Milton  fings,  enlighten'd  bard  ! 

Nor  mifs'd  his  eyes,  when  in  fublimeil  ftrain 

The  angel's  great  narration  he  repeats 

To  Albion's  fons  high-favoured)  :    thou   (halt  learn 

Ccleilial  lcffons  from  his  awful  tongue  : 

And  with  foft  grace  ~  :d  interwoven  loves 

(Giateful  digrefiiop)  all  his  words  rehearfe 

To  thy  Chariffa's  ear,   and  charm  her  foul. 

Thus  with  divine  difcourfe,   in  fliady  bowers 

Of  Eden,   our  firft  father  entertain'd 

Eve,  his  fole  auditrefs  ;   and  deep  difpute 

With  conjugal  carefles  on  her  lip 

Solv'd  eafy,  and  abftrufeft  thoughts  reveal'd* 

Now  the  day  wears  apace,  n#w  Mitio  comes 
From  his  bright  tutor,  and  finds  out  his  mate. 
Behold  the  dear  affoclates,  feated  low 
On  humble  turf,  with  rofe  and  myrtle  ftrew'd  ; 
JW  high  their  conference  !   how  felf-fufKc'd 
C.ives  their  eternal  Maker,  girt  around 
With  glories,  arm'd  with  thunders,  and  his  throne 
Mortal  accefs  forbids,  projecting  far 
Splendors  unfufferable  and  radiant  death. 
With  reverence  and  abafement  deep  they  fall 
Before  his  fovereig.n  Majefty,  to  pay 
Due  worfhip  :   then  his  mercy  on  their  fouls 
Smiles  with  a  gentler  ray,    but  fov'reign   dill, 
And  leads,  their  meditation  and  difcourfe 
Long  ages  backward,  and  acrofs  the  fcas 
To  Bethlehem  of  Judah  :   there  the  Son, 
The  filial  Godhead,  character  exprefs 
Of  brightnefs  inexprefiible,  laid  by 
His  beamy  robes,  and  made  defcent  to  earth* 
Sprung  from  the  fons  of  Adam,  he  became 
A  fecond  father,   ftudious  to  regain 
Loft  paradifc  for  men,  and  purchafe  HeaVn, 


ioq       LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  II, 

The  lovers,  with  endearment  mutual,   thus 
Promifcuous  talk'd,  and  queftions  intricate 
His  manly  judgment  ftill  refolv'd,   and  dill 
Held  her  attention  fix'd  :   fhe  mufing  fat 
Qn  the  fweet   mention  of  incarnate  love, 
rill  rapture  wak'd  her  voice  to  fofter  (trains  : 
"  She  fang  the  infant  God    (myfterious  theme  !) 
*'  How  vile  his  birth-place,  and  his  cradle  vile  ! 
e<  The  ox  and  afs  his  mean  companions  !    there 
*'  In  habit  viie  the  fhepherds  flock  around, 
"  Saluting  the  great   mother,   and  adore 
"  Ifrael's  anointed  King,   the  appointed  Heir 
*'  Of  the  creation.     How  debas'd  he  lies 
*'  Beneath  his  regal  ftate  ;  for  thee,  my  Mitio, 
<J  Debas'd  in  fervile  form  ;   but  angels  flood 
"  Minfftering.  round  their  charge  with  folded    wings, 
"  Obfeqaious,   though  unfeen  ;    while  lightfome  'hours 
*'  Fulfill'd  the  day,  and  the  grey.evening  rofe. 
«  Then  the  fair  guardians  hov'ring  o'er  his  head, 
"  Wakeful  all  night,  drive  the  foul  fpirits  far, 
"  And  with  their  fanning  pinions  purge  the  air 
<l  From  bufy  phantoms,  from  infectious  damps, 
*'  And  impure  taint  ;    while  their  ambrofial  plamc: 
**  A  dewy  flumber  on  his  fenfes  fhed. 
«'  Alternate  hymns  the  heavenly  watchers  fang, 
*'  Melodious,  foothing  the  furrounding  (hades, 
"  And  kept  the  darknefs  chafte  and  holy.      Then 
•*  Midnight  was  charm'd,  and  all  her  g3zing  eyes 
"  Wondcr'd  to  fee  their  mighty  Maker  fleep. 
«'  Behold  the  glooms  difperfe,  the  rofy  morn 
"  Smiles  in  the  eaft  with  eye-lids  opening  fair, 
"  But  not  fo  fair  as  thine  ;   Oh !   I  could  fold  thee, 
*'  My  young  Almighty,   my  Creator-babe, 
"  For  ever  in  thefe  arms  !  for  ever  dwell 
*'  Upon  thy  lovely  form  with  gazing  joy, 
••  And  every   pulfe  fhould  beat  feraphic  love  ! 
"  Around  my  feat  fhall  crowding  cherubs  come 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  201 

11  With  fwift  ambition,  zealous  to  attend 

"  Their  Prince,  and  form  a  Heav'n  below  the  flcy. 

"  Forbear,  Charifla,  O  forbear  the  thought 
**  Of  female  fondnefs,  and  forgive  the  man 
"  That  interrupts  fuch   melting  harmony  !" 
Thus  Mitio  ;   and  awakes  her  nobler  powers 
To  pay  jufl  worfliip  to  the  facred  king 
JESUS,  the  God  :   nor  with  devotion  pure 
Mix  the  carefTes  of  her  fofter  fex  ; 
(Vain  blandifhment  !)  u  Come  turn  thine  eyes  afide 
*'  From  Bethle'em,  and  climb  up  the  doleful  deep 
"  Of  bloody  Calvary,   where   naked  fculls 
"  Pave  the  fad  road,  and  fright  the  traveller. 
**  Can  my  beloved  bear  to  trace  the  feet 
*'  Of  her  Redeemer,   panting  up  the  hill 
•'  Hard  burden'd  i  Can  thy  heart  attend  his  crofs  ? 
11  Nail'd  to  the  cruel  wood,  he  groans,  he  dies, 
*'  For  thee  he  dies.      Beneath  thy  fins  and  mine 
"  (Horrible  load  !)   the  finlefs  Saviour  groans, 
"  And  in  fierce  anguilh  of  his  foul  expires. 
"  Adoring  angels  pry   with  bending  head, 
"  Searching  the  deep  contrivance,  and  admire 
"  This  infinite  defign.      Here  peace  is  made 
"  'Twixt  God  the  Sovereign,  and  the  rebel  man  : 
**  Here  Satan,  overthrown  with  all  his  holls, 
"  In  fecond  ruin  rages  and  defpairs  ; 
"  Malice  itfelf  defpairs.      The  captive  prey, 
"  Long  held  in  fiavery,   hopes  a  fvveet  releafe, 
**  And  Adam's  ruin'd  offjpiing  (hall   revive, 
"  Thus  ranfom'd  from  the  greedy  jaws  of  death." 

The  fair  difciple  heard  ;   her  paffions  move, 
Harmonious,  to  the  great  difcourfe,  and  breathe 
Refin'd  devotion,  while  new  fmiles  of  love 
Repay  her  teacher.      Both  with  bended  knees 
Read  o'er  the  covenant  of  eternal  life 
Brought  down  to  men  ;  feal'd  by  the  facred  Three 


202        LTRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 


In  heav'n  }  and  feal'd  on  earth  with  God's  own  blood  ! 
Here  they  unite  their  names  again,  and  lign 
Thqfe  peaceful  articles.      (Hail,  blefs'd  co-heirs, 
Celeftial  !   ye  (hall  grow  to  manly  age, 
And  fpite  of  earth  and  hell,   in  feafon  due, 
Po fiefs  the  fair  inheritance  above.) 
With  joyous  admirations  they  furvey 
The  gofpel-treafures  infinite,   unfeen 
By  mortal  eye,  by  mortal  ear  unheard, 
And  unconoeiv'd   by  thought  :   riches  divine 
And   honours  which  the  almighty.  Father  God 
Pour'd  with  irnmenfe  profufion  on  his  Son, 
High-treafurer  of  Heaven.      "  The  Son  bellows 
The  life,  the  love,  the  blefilng,  and  the  joy, 
On  bankrupt    mortals,   who  believe  and  love 
His  name.      Then,  my  Charifla,  all  is  thine  !" 
And  thine,  my  Mitio,"  the  fair  faint  replies. 
Life,  death,  the  world  below,  and  worlds  on  high, 
And  place,  and  time,  are  ours  ;   and  things  to  come, 
And  part,  and  prefent,  for  our  intereil  ftands 
Firm  in  our   myftic  head,   the  title  fure. 
'Tis  for  our  health  and  fweet  refrefhment  (while 
We  fojourn  ftrangers  here)   the  fruitful  earth 
Bears  plenteous,  and  revolving  fcafons  ftill 
Drefs  her  vaft  globe  in  various  ornament. 
For  us  this  cheerful  fun  and  cheerful  light 
Diurnal  fhines.     This  blue  expanfe  of  fky 
Hangs  a  rich  canopy  above  our  heads, 
Covering  our  {lumbers,  all  with   ftarry  gold 
Inwrought,   when  night  alternates  her    return. 
For  us  time  wears  his  wings  out  :   nature  keeps 
Her  wheels  in  motion,  and   her  fabric  ftands. 
Glories,  beyond  our  ken  of  mortal  fight, 
Are  now  preparing,  and  a  manfion  fair 
Awaits  us,   where  the  faints  unbody'd  live  : 
Spirits  relcas'd  from  clay,  and  purg'd  from  fin. 
Thither  our  hearts  with  mod  inccfiant  wilh, 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C. 


203 


•J  Panting,  afpire.     When  fhall  that  deared  hour 
**  Shine  and  relcafe   us  hence,  and  bear  us  high, 
"  Bear  us  at  once  unfever'd  to  our  better  home  I" 

O  blefs'd  connubial  flate  !    O  happy  pair  ! 
Envy'd  by  yet  unfociated  fouls 
Who  fcek  their  faithful  twins  !   your  pleafurc6  riie 
Sweet  as  the  rr.orn,  advancing  as  the  day, 
Fervent  as  glorious  noon,   ferenely  calm 
As  fummer-evenings.      The  vile  fons  of  earth, 
Groveling  in  dud  with  all  their  noify  jars 
Reillefs,  fhall  interrupt  your  joys  no  more 
Than  barking  animals  affright  the  moon, 
Sublime,  and   riding  in  her  midnight  way  ; 
Friendlhip  and  love  fhall  undiftinguifh'd  reign 
O'er  all  your  paffion*  with  unrivall'd   fway, 
Mutual   and    everlading  :    friendlhip  knows 
No  property  in  good,    but  all  things  common 
That    each  poffeffes,  as  the  light  or  air 
In  which  we  breathe  and  live  :   There's  not  one  thought 
Can  lurk  in  clofe  refcrve,   no  barriers  fix'd, 
But  every  paffage  open  as  the  day 
To  one  another's  bread  and  inmoft  mind. 
Thus  by  communion  your  delight  fhall  grow, 
Thus  dreams  of  mingl'd  blifs  fwell  higheras  they  flow, 
Thus  angels  mix  their  flames,and  more  divinely  glow. 

THE  THIRD  PART  ; 
OR,  THE  ACCOUNT  BALANCED. 

I. 

SHOULD  fov'reign  love  before  me  dand, 

With  all  his  train  of  pomp  and  date, 
And   bid  the  daring  mufe  relate 

His  comfortjs  and  his  cares  ; 
Mitio,  I  would- not  afk  the  fand 
For  metaphors  to  exprefs  their  weight, 
Nor  borrow  numbers  from  the  dars. 


} 


204       LTRIC    POEMS,     Book  II, 

Thy  cares  and  comforts,  fov'reign  love, 
Vallly  outweigh  the  fand  below, 
And  to  a  larger  audit  grow 

Than  all  the  ftars  above. 
Thy  mighty  lofies  and  thy  gains 

Are  their  own    mutual  meafures  ; 
Only  the  man  that   knows  thy  pains 

Can  reckon  up  thy  pleafures. 

II. 

Say,  Damon,  fay,  how  bright  the  fcene  i 

Damon  his  half  divinely  blefs'd, 
Leaning  his  head  on  his  Florella's  breaft, 
Without  a  jealous  thought,  or  bufy  care  between  : 

Then  the  fweet  paflions  mix  and  fhare  ; 

Florella  tells  thee  all  her  heart, 
Nor  can  thy  foul's  remoter!  part 
Conceal  a  thought  or  wifli  from  the  beloved  fair. 

Say,  what  a  pitch  thy  pleafures  fly, 
When  friendfliip  all  fincere  grows  up  to  eeflafy, 
Nor  felf  contracts  the  blifs,  nor  vice  pollutes  the  joy. 

While  thy  dear  offspring  round  thee    fit, 
Or,   fporting  innocently  at  thy  feet, 
Thy  kindeft  thoughts  engage  : 

Thofe  little  images  of  thee, 

What  pretty  toys  of  youth  they  be, 
And  growing  props  of  age  ! 
III. 
But  fhort  is  earthly  blifs  !    The  changing  win^ 

Blows  from  the  fickly  fouth,  and  brings 
Malignant  fevers  on  its  fultry  wings  ; 

Relentlefs   death  fits  clofc  behind  : 
Now  gafping  infants,  and  a  wife  in  tears, 

With  piercing  groans,  falutes  his  ears, 
Through  every  vein  the  thrilling  torments  roll  j 

While  fweet  and  bitter  are  at  ftrife. 

In  thofe  dear  miferies  of  life, 
Thofe  tendered  pieces  of  his  bleeding  foul 


»  'SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,  Ike.  20£ 

The  pleafirrg  fenfe  of  love  awhile, 
Mix'd  with  the  heart-ache,  may  the  pain  beguile, 

And  make  a  feeble  fight  : 
Till  forroT/s,  like  a  gloomy  deluge,   rife, 
Then  every  fmiling  paflion  dies, 
And  hope  alone  with  wakeful  eyes, 
Darkling  and  folitary,  waits  the  flow   returning  light 
IV. 
Here  then  let  my  ambition  reft  ; 
May  I  be  moderately  blefs'd 
When  I  the  laws  of  love  obey  : 
Let  but  my  pleafure  and  my  pain 
In  equal  balance  ever  reign, 
Or  mount  by  turns  and  fink  again, 
And  (hare  juft  meafures  of  alternate  fway. 
So  Damon  lives,  and  ne'er  complains  $ 
Scarce  can  we  hope  diviner  fcenes 

On  this  dull  ftage  of  clay  : 
The  tribes  beneath  the  northern  bear 
Submit  to  darknefs  half  the  year, 
Since  half  the  year  is  day. 


ON    THE    DEATH    OF 

THE    DUKE    OF   GLOUCESTER, 

JUST    AFTER    MR.    DRYDEN.  I7OO. 

AN    EPIGRAM. 

RYDEN  is  dead  !    DRYDEN  alone  could  fing 
The  full-grown  glories  of  a  future  king  : 
Now  GLOSTER  dies  :  Thus  lefler  heroes  live 
By  that  immortal  breath  that  poets  give, 
And  fcarcc  furvive  theMufe  :  But  WILLIAM  (lands, 
Nor  afics  his  honours  from  the  poet's  hands. 
WILLIAM  (hall  (hine  without  a  DRYDEN's  praife  ; 
His  laurels  are  not  grafted  on  the  bays. 
T 


D 


s.o6       LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  II, 


AN    EPIGRAM    OF    MARTIAL    TO    CIRINUS. 

Sic,  tua,   Cir'miy  promas  epigrammata  vulgo, 
Ut  tnecum  po/Jisy  &c. 

INSCRIBED    TO    MR.    JOSIAH    HORT.  1694. 

(Now  Lord  Bifhop  of  Kilmore,  in  Ireland.) 

SO  fmooth  your  numbers,  friend,  your  verfe  fo  fwect, 
So  fharp  the  jeft,  and  yet  the  turn  fo  neat, 
That,  with  her  Martial,  Rome  would  place  Cirine  ; 
Rome  would  prefer  your  fcnfe  and  thought  to  mine. 
Yet,  modeft,  you  decline  the  public  ftage, 
To  fix  your  friend  alone  amidft  th'applauding  age  : 
So  Maro  did  ;  the  mighty  Maro  lings 
In  vaft  heroic  notes  of  valt  heroic  things, 
And  leaves  the  ode  to  dance  upon  his  Flaccus'ftrings 
He  fcorn'd  to  daunt  the  dear  Horatian  lyre, 
Though  his  brave  genius  flafh'd  Pindaric  fire, 
And  at  his  will  could  filence  all  the  lyric  choir. 
So  to  his  Varius  he  refign'd  the  praife 
Of  the  proud  bufkin  and  the  tragic  bays 
When  he  could  thunder  with  a  loftier  vein, 
And  fing  of  gods  and  heroes  in  a  bolder  drain. 

A  handfome  treat,  a  piece  of  gold,  or  fo, 
And  compliments  will  every  friend  bellow  ; 
Rarely  a  Virgil,  a  Cirine,  we  meet, 
Who  lays  his  laurels  at  inferior  feet, 
And  yields  the  tendered  point  of  honour,  Wit. 


} 


} 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  2CV 

EPISTOLA, 

FRATRT    SUO    DILECTO,    R.    W.    J.    W. 

$.  P.  D. 

RURSUM  tuas,  amande  frater,  accepi  literas,  eo- 
dem  fortafse  momento,  quo  meae  ad  te  pervene- 
runt  ;  idemquc  qui  te  fcribentem  vidit  dies,  rneum  ad 
epiftolare  munus  excitavit  calamura  ;  non  inane  eft  in- 
ter nos  fraternum  nomen,  unicus  enira  fpiritus  nos  in- 
tus  animat,  agitque,  &  Concordes  in  ambobus  efficit 
motus  :  O  utinam  crefcat  indies,  &  vigefcat,  mutua 
charitas  ;  faxit  Deus,  ut  amor  fui  noftra  incendat  & 
defoscet  pedlora,  tunc  etenim  Sc  alternis  purs:  amici- 
tise  flammis  erga  nos  invicem  divinum  in  modum  ar- 
debimus  ;  contemplemur  Jesum  noftrum,  cceleftc 
illud  Sc  adorandum  exemplar  charitatis.     Ille  eft 

QUI  quondam  aeterno  delapfus  ab  sethere  vultus 
Induit  humanos,  ut  poflet  corpore  noftras 
(Heu  miferas  !)  fufferre  vices  ;  fponforis  obvit 
Munia,  &  in  fefe  tabula;  maledifta  rainacis 
Tranftulit,  &  fceleris  poenas  hominifquereatum. 

Ecce,  jacet  defertus  humi,  diffufus  in  herbam,, 
Integer,  innocuas  verfus  fua  fidera  palmas 
Et  placidum  attollens  vultum,  nee  ad  ofcula    patris 
Amplexus  folitofve  ;  artus  nudatus  amiftu 
Sidereos,  &  fponte  finum  patefactus  ad  iras 
Numinis  armati.      Pater,  hie  infjge  *  fagittas, 
*'  Haec,  ait,  iratum  forbebunt  pedlora  ferrum, 
•'  Abluat  sthereus  mortalia  crimina  fanguis." 

Dixit,  &  horrendum  fremuere  tonitrua  cceli 
Infenfufque  Deus  (quem  jam  poffuifle  paternum 

*  Job  iv.  $. 


203 


LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  II 


Mufa  qucrl  vcilet  noraen,  fed  3c  ipfa  fragorcs 
Ad  tantos  pavefa&a  filet)  ;  jam  diflilit  aether, 
Pandunturque  fores,  ubi  duro  carcere  regnat, 
Ira,   &  poenarum  thefauros  mille  coercet  ; 
I  ne'e  ruunt  gravidi  vcfano  fulphure   nimbi, 
Centuplicifqae  rolant  contorta  volumina  flammse 
Jn  caput  immeritum  ;  diro  hie  fub  pondere  preflus, 
Reftat  compreflbs  dumque  ardens  explicat  artus 
Purpureo  f  veftes  tin&ae  fudore  madefcurrt. 
Nee  tamen  infando  vindex  regina  labori 
Segnius  incumbit,  fed  laflos  increpat  ignes 
Acriter,  &  fomno  languentem  fufcitat  J  enfem. 
"  Surge,  age,  divinum  pete  pectus,  &  imbue  facro 
il  Flumine  mucronem  ;   vos  nine,  mea  fpicula,  late 
"  Ferrea  pertotum  difpergite  tormina  Christum, 
"  Immenium  tolerare  valet  ;  ad  pondera  pcenae 
"  Suftentanda  hominem  fuffulciet  incola  numen. 
M  Et  tu,  facra  decas  legum,  violata  tabella, 
«'  Ebibe  vindi&am  ;  vafta  fatiabere  csede, 
"  Mortalis  culpas  penfabit  dedecus  ingena 
"  Permiftus  Deitate  cruor." 

Sic  fata,  immiti  contorquet  vulnera  dextru 
Dilaniatque  finus  ;   faucli  penetralia  cordis 
Panduntur,  faevis  avidus  dolor  involat  alis, 
Atque  andax  mentem  fcrutatur,  &  ilia  mordet  j 
Interea  fervator  §  ovat,  vi£torque  doloris 
Eminet,  illuftri  ||  perfufus  membra  cruore, 
Exultatque  mifer  fieri  ;   nam   fortius  ilium 
Urget  Patris  honos,  &  non  vincenda  voluptas 
Scivandi  miferos  fontes  ;  O  nobilis  ardor 
Pcenarum  !   O  quid  non  roortalia  peftora  cogie, 
DuiUb  amor  i  Quid  non  cceUftia  i 


f  Luc.  xxii.  44. 
§  Col.  ii.  15. 


J  Zech.  xiii.  7. 
||  Luc.  xxii  44» 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C. 


209 


At  fubfidat  phantafia,  vanefcant  imagines  ;  nefcio  quo 
mc  proripuit  amens  raufa  :  volui  quatuor  lineas  ptdi- 
bus  aftringere,  &,  ecce  !  numeri  crefcunt  in  immen- 
fum  ;  dumque  concitato  genio  laxavi  frsena,  vereor  ne 
jnvenillis  impetus  theologiam  lsferit,  &  audax  nimis 
imaginatio.  Heri  allata  eft  ad  me  epiftola  indicans 
mat  rem  meliufcule  fe  habere,  licet  ignis  febrilis  non 
prorfus  deferuit  mortale  ejus  domicilium.  Plura 
volui,  fed  turgidi  &  crefcentes  verfus  noluere  plura,  & 
coarctarunt  fcriptionis  limites.  Vale,  amice,  frater,  & 
in  ftadio  pietatis  &  artis  medicas  ftrcnuus  decurre. 

Datum  a  mufaeo  mco,  Londini  xv.  Kalend.  Febr, 
anno  falutis  cioiocxcui.  ■ 


FRATRIS    E.    W.    OLIM    NAVIGATURO. 

Sept.  30,  1691, 


1?  FELIX,  pede  profpero 
I,  frater,  trabe  pinca 
Sulces  sequora  caerula 
Pandas  carbafa  flatibus 
Quae  tuto  reditura  fint. 
Non  te  monftra  natantia, 
Ponti  camivoras  incola?, 
Prsedentur  rate  naufraga 

Navis,  tu  tibi  creditum 
Fratrem  dimidium  mei 
Salvum  per  inhofpita 
Ponti  regna,  per  avios 
Traftus,  &  liquidum  chaos, 
Nee  te  forbeat  horrida 
Syrtis,  nee  fcopulus  minax 
Rumpat  roboreum  latus, 
Captent  mitia   flamir.a 
Antenna;  ;   &  zephyri  leves 
Dent  pcrtum  placidum  tibi." 

T  2 


iio.       LTRIC  POEMS,     Book  II. 

Tu,   qui  flumina,  qui  vagos 
Flu&us  oceani,   regis, 
Et  faevum  Borcam  d.omas, 
Da  fratri  faciles  vias, 
Et  fratrcm  reducem  fuis. 


AD    REFERENDUM    VIRUM 

Dm     JOHANNEM    PINHORNE, 

FIDUM    ADOLESCENTIiE    MEJE    PRVECEPTORSM* 


Ptndarici  Cartmnis  Specimen.      1694. 

I. 

ET  te,  PINHORNI,  mufa  trifantica 
Salutat,  ardens  difcipulam  tuatn 
Grate  fateri  ;  nunc  Athenas, 
Nunc  latias  per  amsenitates, 
Tuto  pererrans  te  reculit  ducem, 
Te  quondam  teneros  &  ebraia  per  afpera  grcffas 
Non  dura  duxifle  manu. 
Tuo  patcfcunt  lumine  Thefpii 
Campi  atque  ad  areem  PTcridon  iter  : 
En,  altus  aflurgens  Homerus, 
Arma  deofqae  virofque  mifcens, 
Occupat  OLthereum  Parnaffi  culraen  :  Homeri 

Immenfos  ftupeo  manes 

Te,  Maro,  duke  canens  fylvas,  te  btlla  fonantem 
Ardua,  da  veniam  tenui  veocrare  camcena  : 
Tuaeque  accipias,  Thebane  vates, 
Dcbita  thura  lyrse. 
Vobis,  magna  ttias  !   clarifiima  nottina,  Temper 
Scrinia  noftra  patent,  &  p«£ora  noftra  patebunt, 
Quum  mihi  cunque  levem  concefferit  otia  &  horaro 
Divina  Mofw  pagina. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C. 
II. 


Ill 


Flaccus  ad  hanc  triadem  ponatur,  at  ipfa  pudendas 
Deponat  veneres  :    venias,  fed  *  purus  &  infons 
Ut  te  collaudem,  dum  fordes  &  mala  luftra 
Ablutus,  Venufine,  canis  ridefve.      Recife 
Hac  lege  accedant  fatyrae  Juvenalis,  am3ri 
Tcrrores  vitiorum.      At  longe  caecus  abeffet 

Perfius,  obfeurus  vates,  nifi  lumina  circum- 
fufaTorent,  Sphingifque  aenigmata,   Bonde,   fcidiffei 
Grande  fonans  Seneca  fulmen,  grandifque  cothurni 
Pompa  Sophoclci  celfo  ponantur  eodem 
Ordine,  &  ambabus  fimul  hos  amplc&ar  in  ulnis. 

Tuto  poetae,  tuto  habhabitis 

Pidtos  abacos,  improba  tinea 
Obiit,  nee  audet  faeva  caftas 

Attingere  blatta  carncenas. 

At  tu  renidens  fceda  epigrammatura 
Farrago  inertum,  ftercoris  impii 

Sentina  fattens,  Martialis, 

In  barathrum  relegandus  imum 
Aufuge,  &  hiuc  tecum  rapias  Catullum 
Iufulfe  mollem,  naribu3  auribus 
Ingrata  caftis  carmina,  &  improbi 

Spurcos  Nafonis  amores, 

III. 

Nobilis  extrcma  gradiens  Caledonis  ab  ora. 
En,  Buchananus  adeft.     Divini  pfaltis  imago 
Jeffiadae  falveto  ;  potens  feu  numinis  iras 
Fulminibus  mifcere,  facro  vel  lumine  mentis 

Fulgare  nodes,  vel  citharae  fono 
Sedare  fluftus  pectoris. 

Tu  mihi  haerebis  comes  ambulant;, 

Tu  domi  aftabis  focins  perennis, 

Sen  levi  menfae  fimul  affidere, 
Dignabere,  feu  lecrkicse. 


*  Horat.  Lib.  I.  Sat.  &~ 


212      LTRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 

Mox  recumbentis  vigilans  ad  aurem> 

Aureos  fuadebis  inire  fomnos 
Sacra  fopitis  fuperinferens  oblivia  curls  ; 
Stet  juxta  Cafimirus*,  huic  nee  parcius  ignem 
Natura  indulfit,  nee  mufa  armavit  alumnum 
Sarbivium  *,  rudiore  lyra 

Quanta  Polonum  levat  aura  cygnum  ! 

Humana  linqnens  §  (en  fibi  devii 

Montes  rccedunt)  luxuriantibus 

Spatiatur  fn  aere  pennis, 

Seu  tu  forte  virum  tollis  ad  sethcra, 

Cognatofve  thronos  &  patrium  Polum 
Vifurus  confurgis  ovans, 

Vifum  fatigas,  aciemque  fallis, 

Dum  tuum  a  longe  ftupeo  volatum, 
O  non  imitabilis  ales. 

IV. 

Sarbivii  ad  nomen  gelida  incalet 

Mufa,  firnul  totus  fervefcere 

Sentio,  ftellatus  lcvJs  induor 

Alas,  &  tollor  in  altum. 

Jam  juga  Zionis  radena  pede 

Elato  inter  fidera  vertice 

Longe  defpe&o  mortalia. 
Quam  juvat  altifonis  volitare  per  sethera  pennisj 
Et  ridere  precul  fallacia  gaudia  ftcli 
Terrellse  grandia  inania, 

Quae  mortale  genus  (heu  !   male)  deperit, 

O  cqraa  hominum  miferas  !  cano> 

Et  miferas  nugas  diademata  ! 

Ventofa  fortis  ludibrium. 
En  mihi  fubfidunt  ttrrenoe  a  pcftora  fseces, 
Geftit,  &  effrseuis  divinnm  effundere  carmen 
Mens  afflata  Deo 


*  M.  Cafimirus,  Sarbiewiki  pocta  infignis  Poionli- 
j  Od.  V.  Lib.  2. 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C.  213 


at  ros  heroes  5c  arma 


Et  procul  efte,  dii,    ludicra  numina. 
Quid  mihi  cum  veftrae  pondere  lancear, 
Pallas  !   ant  veflris,  Dionyfe,  Thyrfis  ? 
Et  clava,  &  anguis,  &  leo,  &  Hercules, 
Et  brutum   tonitru  ficlitii  patris, 
Abftate  a  carmine  noftro. 
V. 
Te,  Deus  omnipotens  !   te  noftra  fonabi't  JESU 
Mufa,  ncc  affueto  calefies  barbiton  aufii 
Tentabit  numeros.     Vafti  fine  limite  numen  & 
Immenfum  fine  legcDfUM  numeri  fine  lege  fonabunt, 

Sed  mufam  magna  poliicentem  deftituit  vigor  ;  di- 
vino  jubare  perflringitur  oculorum  acie3.  En,  labafcit 
pennis  tremit  artubus,  ruit  deorfura  par  inane  setheris, 
jacet  vidta,  obftupefcit,   filet. 

Ignofcas,  reverende  vir,  vano  conamini  ;  fragmen. 
hoc  rude  licet  &  impolitum  sequi  boni  confulas,  & 
gratitudinis  jam  diu  debitatse  in  partem  rcponas. 


Votutn,  feu  Vita  in  Terr  is  beat  a. 

AD    VIRUM    DIGNISSIMUM 
JOHANNEM    HARTOPPIUM,    BART. 


I. 

HARTOPPI  eximio  ftemmate  nobilis 
Venaque  ingenii  diyite,  fi  roges 
Quern  mea  mufa  beat, 
Ille  mihi  felix  ter  &  amplius, 
Et  fimiles   fuperis   annos  agit, 
Qui  fibi  fufficiens  Temper  adeft  fibi. 

Hunc  longe  a  cnris  mortalibns, 
Inter  agros,  fylvafqut  fileates, 
Se  mufifque  fuis  tranquilla  in  pace  fruenteojj 
Sol  orcns  videt  &  recumbens. 


1702. 


ai4       LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  II 
II. 

Non  fuss  vulgi  favor  infolenti's 
(Plaufus  infani  timidus  popelll) 
Mentis  ad  facrara  penetrabit  arcem, 

Feriat  licet  aethera  clamor. 
Ncc  Gaza  flammans  divitis  Indiae, 
Nee,  Tage,  veftrae  fulgor  arenulse, 

Ducent  ab  obfeura  qiuete 
Ad  laquear  radiantis  aula:. 

III. 
O  fi  daretur  {lamina  proprii 
Tractare  fufi  pollicc   proprio, 

ATque  meum  mihi  fingere  fatum  ; 
Candidas  vitae  color  innocentis 
Fila  nativo  decoraret  albo, 

Non  Tyria  vitiata  concha. 
'Non  aurum,  non  gemma  nitens,  ncc  purpura  telx 
Intertexta  forent  invidiofa  meae, 
Longe  a  triumphis,  &  fonitu  tubas 
Longe  remotos  tranfigerem  dies  : 
Abftate,  fafces  (fplendida  vanitas  !) 

Et  vos  abftate,  coronae. 
IV. 
Pro  meo  te&o  cafa  fit,  falubres 
Captet  auroras,  procul  urbis  atro 
Diftet  a  fumo,  fugiatque  longe 

Dura  phthilis  mala,  dura  tuffis, 
Difplicet  Byrfa  &  fremitu  molefto 
Turba  mercantum  ;  gratiiis  alvear 
Dtmulcet  aures   murmure,  gratius 

Fons  falicntis  aquae. 

V. 
Litigiofa  fori  me  terrent  jurgla,  lenrs 
Ad  fylvas  properans  rixofas  execror  artea 
Eminus  in  tuto  a  Unguis 

Blandiir.enta  art  is  fimul  aequus  odi, 
Valete,  cives,    &  amcena  fraudi's 


SACRED    TO    VIRTUE,    &C. 

Verba  ;  proh  mores  !   &  inane  facri 
Noraen  amici  ! 

VI. 
Tuque   quae  noftris  inimica  mufis 
Ftlle  facratum  vitias  amorem, 
Abfis  sternum,  diva  libidinis 
Et  pharetrate   pucr  ! 
Hinc,  hinc,  Cupido,  longius  avola  ; 
Nil  mihi  cum  foedis,  puer,  ignibus  ; 
./Etherea  fervent  face  peftora, 
Sacra   mihi  Venus   eft   Urania, 
Et  juvenis  Jeffeus  amor  mihi. 

VII. 

Ccelefte  carmen  (nee  taceat  lyra 
JefTaea)  Ixtis  auribus  infonet, 
Nee  Watfianis,  e  medullis, 

Ulla  dies  rapiet  vel  hora. 
Sacri  libelli  deliciae  meat, 
Et  vos,  fodales,  femper  amabiles, 

Nunc  fimul  adfnis,   nunc  viciffira, 
Et  fallite  tasdia  vita;. 


215 


TO      MRS.      SINGER, 

(Now  Mrs.  Rowe) 

ON"     THE     SIGHT    OF     SOME    OF    HER    DIVINE 

POEMS,    NEVER    PRINTED. 

July  19,    1706. 
I. 

ON   the  fair  banks  of  gentle  Thames 
I  tun'd  my  harp  ;  nor  did  celeftial  themes 
Refufe  to  dance  upon  my  firings  ; 
There,   beneath  the  evening  iky, 
I  fang  my  cares  afleep,  and  rais'd  my  wifhes  high 
To  everlafting  things. 


ai6       LTRIC   POEMS,    Book  II. 

Sudden,  from  Albion's  weftern  coaft, 

Harmonious  notes    come  gliding  by  ; 
The  neighbouring  fhepherds  knew  the  nlver  found  ; 
"  Tis    PHILOMELA'S    voice,"    the    neighbouring 
fhepherds  cry  ; 

At  once  my  (liings  all  filent  lie, 

At  once  my  fainting  Mufe  was  loft  ; 

In  the  fuperior  fweetnefs  drowu'd. 
In  vain  I  bade  my  tuneful  pow'rs  unite  ; 

My  foul  rctir'd,  and  left  my  tongue  : 
I  was  all  ear,  and  PHILOMELA'S  fong 

Was  all  divine  delight  ! 

II. 

Now  be  my  harp  for  ever  dumb, 
My  Mufe  attempt  no  more.     'Twas  long  ag» 

I  bade  adieu  to  mortal  things, 

To  Grecian  tales,  and  wars  of  Rome  : 
'Twas  long  ago  I  broke  all  but   th'immortal  ftrings  ; 
Now  thefe  immortal  firings  have  no  employ, 

Since  a  fair  angel  dwells  below 
To  tune  the  notes  of  Heav'n,  and  propagate  the  joy. 

JLet  all  my  powers  with  awe  profound, 
While  PHILOMELA  Tings, 

Attend  the  rapture  of  the  found, 
And  my  devotion  rife  on  her  feraphic  wings  ! 


^>0<>0xSXv^>0v£><>0,^J 


HORiE    LYRICS, 

BOOK      III. 

Sacred  to  the  MEMORY  of  the  DEAD, 


AN      EPITAPH 

ON       KING      WILLIAM      III. 

Of  glorious  Memory, 

WHO    DIED    MARCH    8j    I70I. 


BENEATH  thefe  honours  of  a  tomb, 
Greatness  in  humble  ruin  lies  : 
(How  earth  confines  in  narrow  room 
What  heroes  leave  beneath  the  fkics  !) 

II. 

Preferve,  O  venerable  tile, 
Inviolate  thy  facred  truft  ; 
To  thy  cold  arms  the  BRITISH  ifle, 
Weeping,  commits  her  richeft  duft. 

III. 

Ye  gentled  minifters  of  fate, 
Attend  the  monarch  as  he  lies, 
And  bid  the  fofteft  slumbers   wait 
With  filken  cords  to  bind  his  eyes. 


218     LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  III. 
IV. 

Reft  his  dear  sword  beneath  his  head  ; 
Round  him  his  faithful  arms  ftiall  Hand  ; 
Fix  his  bright  ensigns  on  his  bed, 
The  guards  and  honours  of  our  land. 

V. 

Ye  filler  arts  of  paint  and  verse, 
Place  ALBION  fainting  by  his  fide  ; 
Her  groans  arifing  o'er  the  hearfc, 
And  BELGIA  finking  when  he  dy'd. 

VI. 

High  o'er  the  grave  religion  fet 
In  folcmn  gold  ;   pronounce  the  ground 
Sacred  to  bear  unhallow'd  feet, 
And  plant  her  guardian  virtues  round. 

VII. 
Fair  liberty,  in  fables  drefs'd, 
Write  his  lov'd  ,name  upon  his  urn  ; 
william,  "  the  scourge  of  tyrants  past, 
*'  And  awe  of  princes    yet  unborn." 

VIII. 

Sweet  peace  his  facred  relics  keep, 
With  olives  blooming  round  her  head, 
And  firetch  her  wings  acrofs  the  deep, 
To  blefs  the  nations  with  the  ftiade. 

IX. 

Stand  on  the  pile,   immortal  fame, 
Broad  liars  adorn  thy  bright  eft  robe, 
Thy  thoufandi  voices  found  his  name 
In  filver  accents  round  the  globe. 

X. 

Flatt'ry  fliall  faint  beneath  the  found, 
While  hoary  truth  infpires  the  fong  : 
Envy  grow  pale  and  bite  the   ground, 
And  slander  gnaw  her  forky  tongue. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD.         219 

XI. 

Night  and  the  grave,   remove  your  gloom  ; 
Darkntfs  becomes  the  vulgar  dead  ; 
But  glory  bids  the  royal  tomb 
Difdain  the  horrors  of  a  made. 

XII. 
Glory  with  all  her  lamps  fhall  burn, 
And  watch  the  warrior's  fleeping  clay, 
Till  the  lall  trumpet  ronfe  his  urn 
To  aid  the  triumphs  of  the  day  ! 


ON    THE    SUDDEN    DEATH    OF 
MRS.    MARY    PEACOCK. 


AN     ELEGIAC     SONG,    SENT    IN    A     LETTER 

OF    CONDOLENCE    TO    MR.    N.    P. 

MERCHANT  AT  AMSTERDAM. 

I. 

HARK  !    She  bids  all  her  friends  adieu  ; 
Some  angel  calls  her  to  the  fpheres  ; 
Our  eyes  the  radiant  faint  purfue 
Through  liquid  telefcopes  of  tears. 

II. 
Farewell,  bright  foul,  a  fhort  farewell, 
Till  we  (hall  meet  again  above, 
In  the  fweet   groves  where  pleafures  dwell, 
And  trees  of  life  bear  fruits  of  love  : 

III. 

There  glory  fits  on  ev'ry  face  ; 
There  ftiendfhip  fmiles  in  ev'ry  eye  ; 
There  fhall  our  tongues  relate  the  grace 
That  ltd  us  homeward  to  the  fky. 


220      LYRIC   POEMS,    Book  III. 

IV. 

O'er  all  the  names  of  Christ,  our  King, 
Shall  our  harmonious  voices  rove  ; 
Our  hearts  mall  found,  from  ev'ry  firing, 
The  wonders  of. his  bleeding  love. 

V. 
Come,  fovereigo  Lord,  dear  Saviour,  come, 
Remove  thefe  feparating  days  ; 
Send  thy  bright  wheels  to  fetch  us  home  ; 
That  golden  hour,  how  long  it  (lays  ! 

VI. 
How  long  muft  we  lie  ling'ring  here, 
While  faints  around  us  take  their  flight  ? 
Smiting  they  quit  this  dufky  fphere, 
And  mount  the  hills  of  heavenly  light. 

VII. 
Sweet  foul,  we  leave  thee  to  thy  reft  ; 
Enjoy  thy  JESUS  and  thy  God, 
Till  we,  from  bands  of  clay  releas'd, 
Spring  out  and  climb  the  fliining  road, 

VIII. 
While  the  dear  dull  flie  leaves  behind 
Sleeps  in  thy  bofom,  facred  tomb  ! 
Soft  be  her  bed,  her  (lumbers  kind, 
And  all  her  dreams  of  joy  to  come  ! 


EPITAPHIUM    VIRI    VENERABILIS. 
DOM.     N.     MATHER, 
Carmine  Lapidario.  conferipfum, 

M.  S. 

REVERENDI    ADM0DUM    VIRI 

NJTHJNAELIS  MATHERL 

QUOD  mori  potuit  hie  fubtus  depofltum  eft  : 
Si  quaeris,  hofpes,  quantus  &  qualis  fuit, 
Fidus  enarrabit  lapis. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD.         221 

Nomen  a  familia  duxit 
San&ioribus  ftudiis  &  evangelio  devotfi, 

Et  per  utramque  Angliam  celtbti, 
Amtiicanam  fc.  atquc   Europaeam. 
Et  hie  quoque  in  fandli  miniilerii  fpem  educlus 
Non  fallacem  : 
Et  hunc  utraque  novit  Anglia 
Doftum  &  docentem. 
Corpore  fuit  procero,  forma  placide  verenda  ; 
At  fupra  corpus  &  formam  fublime  eminuerunt 
Indoles  ingenium  atque  eruditio  : 
Supra  haec  pietas,  &  (fi  fas  dicere) 

Siipra  pictatem  modeftia  ; 
Caeteras  enini  dotes  obumbravit. 
Quoties  in  rebus  divfnis  peragendis  . 
Divinitus  afiiatas  mentis  fpecimina 

Praeftantiora   edidit, 
Totfes  hominem  fedulus  occuluit 
Ut  folus  confpiceretur  Deus  : 
.      Voluit  totus  latere,  nee  potuit  ; 

Heu  quantum  tamen   fui  nos  latet  ! 
Et  majorem  laudis  partem  fepulcharle  marmor 
Invito  obruit  filentio. 
Gratiam  JESU  CHRISTI  falutiferam 
Quam  abunde  haufit  ipfe,  aliis  propinavit, 
Puram  ab  humana  fsece. 
Veritatis  evangelical  decus  ingens, 
Et  ingens  propugnaculum. 
Concionatur  gravis  afptflu,  geftu,  voce  j  . 
Cui  nee  aderat  pompa  oratoria, 
Nee  deerat  ; 
Flofculos  rhetorices  fupervocaneos  fecit 
Rerum  dicendarum  majeftas,  $c  Deus  praefens. 
Hinc  arma  militiae  fuae  non  infelicia, 
Hinc  toties  fugatus  Satanas, 
Et  hinc  Ti&oriae 
Ab  inferorum  portis  toties  reportatae, 

II  2    • 


W,     LTRIC    POEMS,     Book  III, 

Solers  Ule  ferreis  impiorum  anirais  infigere 

Ahum  &  falntare  vulnus  : 
Vulneratas  idem  tradiare  lenlter  folers, 
Et  mtdelam  adhibere  magis  falutarem. 
Ex  defseeato  cordis  fonte 
Divinis  eloquiis  affatim  fcatebant  labia, 
Etiam  in  familiar!  contubernio  : 
Spirabit  ipfe  undique  cseleftcs  fuavitatcs, 
Qiiafi  oleo  laetitise  ftrr.pcr  recens  delibutus, 
Et  femper  fiipra  focios  ; 
Gratumque  di'edlifiimi  ftii  JESU  odcrcra. 
Quaquaverfis  &  late  diffudit. 
Dolores  tokrans  fupra  ridem, 
iErumnceque  heu  quam  afliduae  ! 
Invito  anirtio,  vi.dlrice  paticnti?., 
*  Varias  curarum  moles  pertulit, 
Et  !n  ftadio  &  in  meta  vu.se  : 
Qnam.  ubi  propinquam  vidit, 
Plerophoria  fidei  quafi  curru  alato  vectuo  ■ 

Propere  &  exulum  attigit. 
Nat  us  eft,  in  agio  Lancaflrienfi,  20  Martii,  16.3d 
later  Nov-Anglos  theologiae  tyrocinia  fecit. 
Paftorali  munere  din  Dublin!!  in  Hibernia  fundi: us, 
Tandem    (ut  femper)  providtntlam  fecutus  ducept, 
Csetui  fidelium  apud  Londincnlis  prsspofitus  til, 
Quos  do&rina,  precibus,  &  vita,  beavit  ; 

Ah  brevl  ! 
Corporc  folutus  260  Julii,  1697.     iEtat.  67. 
Ecclefis  maerorem,   tbeologis  exemplar  reliquit, 
Probis  piifque  omnibus 
Infandum  fui  defiderium  : 
Dum  pulvis  CHRISTO  charus  hie  duke  dorqatt 
Expedtans  fiellam  matutinam. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD". 


TO    THE    REV.    MR.    JOHN    SHOWER, 

ON    THE    DEATH    OF    HIS    DAUGHTER, 

MRS.    ANNE    WARNER. 


Reverend  and  dear  Sir, 

HOW  great  foeve^  was.  my  fenfe  of  your  Iofs,  yet  I 
did  not  think  myfelf  fit  to  offer  any  lines  of  comfort  i 
your  own  meditations  can  furniih  you  with  many  a 
delightful  truth  in  the  midft  of  fo  heavy  a  forrow  ; 
for  the  covenant  of  grace  has  brightnefs  enough  in  it 
to  gild  the  rr.oft  gloomy  providence  :  and  to  that 
fweet  covenant  your  foul  is  no  ftranger.  My  own 
thoughts  were  much  impreffed  with  the  tidings  of  your 
daughter's  death  :  and  though  I  made  many  a  reflec- 
tion on  the  vanity  of  mankind  in  its  beft  eftate,  yet  I 
muft  acknowledge  that  my  temper  leads  me  moll  to 
the  pleafant  fcenes  of  Heaven,  and  that  future  world  of 
bleffednefs.  When  I  recolleft  the  memory  of  my 
friends  that  are  dead,  I  frequently  rove  into  the  world 
of  fpitits,  and  fearch  them  out  there.  Thus  I  endea- 
voured to  trace  Mrs.  Warner  ;  and,  thefe  thoughts 
crowding  faft.  upon  me,  I  fet  them  down  for  my  own 
entertainment.  The  verfe  breaks  off  abruptly, becaufe 
I  had  no  defign  to  write  a  finifhed  elegy  ;  and  belides, 
when  I  was  fallen  upon  the  dark  fide  of  death,  I  had 
no  mind  to  tarry  there.  If  the  lines  I  have  written  be 
fo  happy  as  to  entertain  you  a  little,  and  divert  your 
grief,  the  time  fpent  in  compofmg  them  fliall  not  be 
reckoned  among  my  loft  hours  ;  and  the  review  will 
be  more  pleafing  to,  Sir, 

Dec.  2  2,1  Your  r.ffedlionate  humble  fervant, 

^707.  J  1.  w. 


224     LTRIC   P  0  EMS,     Book  III." 


AN     ELEGIAC     THOUGHT 

ON      MRS.      ANNE      WARNER, 

WHO  DIED  OF  THE  SMALL-POX,  DEC.  l8,  I  JOJ,  AT 
ONE  O'CLOCK  IN  THE  MORNING  ;  A  FEW  DAYS 
AFTER.  THE  BIRTH  AND  DEATH  OF  HER  FIRST 
CHILD. 

AWAKE,  my  Mufe,  range  the  wide  world  of  fouls, 
And  feek  VERNERA  fled:   with   upward  aim 
Direct  thy  wing  ;  for  me  was  born  from  Heaven, 
FulfilFd  her  vifit,   and  return'd  on  high. 

The  midnight  watch  of  angels  that  patrole 
Th?  Britifh  fky,  have   notie'd  her  afcent 
Near  the  meridian  ftar  ;    purfue  the  track 
To  the  bright  confines  of  immortal  day 
And  paradife,  her  home.      Say,   my  Urania, 
(For  nothing  'fcapes  thy  fearch,  nor  canft  thou  mife 
So  fair  a  fpirit)  fay,  beneath  what  fhade 
Of  amarant,    or  cheerful  evergreen, 
She  fits,  recounting  to  her  kindred-minds, 
Angelic  or  humane,   her  mortal  toil 
And  travels  through  this  howling  wildernefs  : 
By  what  divine  protection  fhe  efcap'd 
Thofc  deadly  fnares,  when  youth  and  Satan  leagu'd 
In  combination  to  afTail  her  virtue  ; 
(Snares  fct  to  murder  fouls  !)  but  Heav'n  fecur'd 
The  favourite  nymph,  and  taught  her  victory. 

Or  does  (he  feek,  or  has  Hie  found,  her  babe 
Among  the  infant-nation  of  the  blefs'd, 
And  clafp'd  it  to  her  foul,    to  fatiate  there 
The  young  maternal  paflion,   and  abfolve 
The  unfulfill'd  embrace  ?  Thrice  happy  child  ! 
That  faw  the  light,  and  turn'd  its  eyes  afidc 
From  our  dim  regions  to  th'eternal  Sun, 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD.         11$ 

And  led  the  parent's  way  to  glory  !    there 
Thou  art  for  ever  hers,   with  pow'rs  enlarg'd 
For  love  reciprocal  and  fvveet  converfe. 

Behold  her  ancestors  (a  pious  race  !) 
Rang'd  in  fair  order,  at  her  fight  rejoice, 
And  fing  her  welcome.      She,  aiong  their  feats 
Gliding,  falutes  them  all  with  honours  due, 
Such  as  are  paid  in  Heav'n  :   at  lait  fne  finds 
A  rr.anfion  fafhion'd  of  diftinguifh'd  light, 
But  vacant  :    "  This,"  with  fure  prefage,  (he  cries, 
"  Awaits  my  father  }  when   will  he  arrive  ? 
11  How  long,  alas,  how  long  !"    (then  calls  her  mate) 
"  Die,  thou  dear  partner  of  my  mortal  cares  ; 
u  Die,  and  partake  my  blifs ;   we  are  for  ever  one." 

Ah  rae  !   where  roves  my  fancy  !   what  kind  dreams 
Crowd  with  fweet  violence  on  my  waking  mind  ! 
Perhaps  illufions  all  !    inform  me,   Mufe  ; 
Choofes  (he  rather  to  retire  apart 
To  recoiled  her  difiipated  powers, 
And  call  her  thoughts  her  own  :   fo  lately  freed 
From  earth's  vain  fcenes,  gay  vifits,  gratulations, 
From  Hymen's  hurrying  and  tumultuous  joys,    [death. 
And  fears,  and  pangs,  fierce  pangs,   that   wrought  her 
Tell  me  on  what  fublimer  theme  (he  dwells 
In  contemplation,  with  unerring  clue 
Infinite  truth  purfuing.      (When,  my  foul, 
O  when  (hall  thy  rcleafe  from  cumbrous  flc(h 
Pafs  the  great  feal  of  Heaven  ?  What  happy  hour 
Shall  give  thy  thoughts  a  loofe  to  foar  and  trace 
The  intellectual  world  i  divine  delight  ! 
VERNERA's  lov'd  employ  !)  Perhaps  (lie  fings. 
To  fome  new  golden  harp,  th'almighty  deeds, 
The  names,  the  honours,  of  her  Saviour  God  ; 
His  crofs,  his  grave,  his  victory,  and  his  crown  : 
Oh  could  I  imitate  th'exalted  notes, 
And  mortal  ears  could  bear  them  !  ■ -^ 


216     LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  III. 

Or  lies  fhe  now  before  th'eternal  throne 
Proftrate  in  humble  form,  with  deep  devotion 
O'erwhelmed,  and  felf-abafement  at  the  fight 
Of  the  uncover'd  Godhead  face  to  face  ? 
Seraphic  crowns  pay  homage  at  his  feet, 
And  hers   amongft  them,   not  of  dimmer  ore, 
Nor  fet  with  meaner  gems  ;   but  vain  ambition, 
And  emulation  vain,  and  fond,  conceit, 
And  pride  forever  banifh'd  flies  the  place, 
Curs'd  pride,  the  drefsof  hell.     Tell  me,  Urania, 
How  her  joys  heighten,  and  her  golden  hours 
Circle  in  love.      O  (lamp  upon  my  foul 
Some  blifsful  image  of  the  fair  deceas'd, 
To  call  my  paffions  and  my  eyes  afide 
From  the  dear  breathlefs  clay,  diftrefling  fight  ! 
I  look,  and  mourn,  and  gaze  with  greedy  view 
Of  melancholy  fondnefs  :   tears  bedewing 
That  form  fo  late  defir'd,  fo  late  belov'd, 
Now  loathfome  and  unlovely.      Bafe  difeafe, 
That  leagu'd  with  nature's  iharpeft  pains,  and  fpoiFd      » 
So  fweet  a  ftructure  !    the  impoifoning  taint 
O'crfpreads  the  building  wrought  with  (kill  divine, 
And  ruins  the  rich  temple  to  the  dull  ! 

Was  this  the  countenance,  where  the  world  admir'd 
Features  of  wit  and  virtue  ?  this  the  face 
Where  love  triumph'd  ?  and  beauty  on  thefe  cheeks, 
As  on  a  throne,   beneath  her  radiant  eyes 
Was  feated  to  advantage  ;   mild,  ferene, 
Reflecting  rofy  light  !    fo  fits  the  fun 
(Fair  eye  of  Heav'n)  upon  a  crimfon  cloud 
Near  the  horizon,  and  with  gentle  ray 
Smiles  lovely  round  the  fky,  till  rifing  fogs, 
Portending  night,  with   foul  and  heavy  wing 
Involve  the  golden   ftar,  and  fink  him  down, 
Opprefs'd  with  darkntfs. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD. 


127 


ON     THE     DEATH     OF     AN    AGED    AND     HON- 
OURED   RELATIVE,    MRS.    M.    W. 

July  13,   1693. 

I. 

I    KNEW  the  kindred  mind.     'Tis  fhe,  tis  flic  ; 
Among  the  heav'nly  forms  I  fee 
The  kindred  mind  from  flefhly  bondage  free  : 
Oh  !    how  unlike  the  thing  was  lately  feen 

Groaning   and  panting  on  the  bed, 

With  ghaftly  air  and  languifh'd  head, 
Life  on  this  fide,  there  the  dead, 
While  the  delaying  flefli  lay  fhivering  between. 
1L 

Long  did  the  earthly  houfe  reftrain, 
In  toilfome  flav'ry,  that  ethereal  gueft  ; 

Prifon'd  her  round  in  walls  of  pain, 
And  twilled  cramps  and  aches  within  her  chain  ; 
Till,  by  the  weight  of  num'rous  days  opprefs'd, 

The  earthly  houfe  began  to  reel, 
The  pillars  trembled,  and  the  building  fell  ; 
The  captive  foul  became  her  own  again  : 
Tir'd  with  the  forrows  and  the  cares, 

A  tedious  train  of  fourfcore  years, 

The  priYner  fmil'd  to  be  releas'd, 
She  felt  her  fetters  loofe  and  mounted  to  her  reft. 

III. 
Gaze  on,  my  foul,  and  let  a  perfect  view 

Paint  her  idea  all  anew  ; 
Rafe  out  thofe   melancholy  fhapes  cf  woe 
That  hang  around  thy  memory,  and  becloud  it  fo. 
Come,  fancy,  come,  with  effences  rcfin'd, 

With  youthful  green,  and  fpotlefs  white  ; 
Deep  be  the  tindure,  and  the  colours  bright, 
T'exprefs  the  beauties  of  a  naked  mind. 


2  28     LYRIC   POEMS,      Book  III. 

Provide  no  glooms  to  form  a  (Trade, 
All  things  above  of  vary'd  light  arc  made, 
Nor  can  the  heav'nly  piece  require  a  mortal  aid, 
But  if  the  features  too  divine 
Beyond  the, pow'r  of  fancy  Aline, 
Conceal  th'inimitable  flrokts  behind  a  graceful  fhrine. 
IV. 
Defcribe  the  faint  from    head  to  feet, 
Make  all  the  lines  in  jnR   proportion  meet  ; 
But  let  her  polture  be 
Filling  a  chair  of  high  degree  ; 
Obferve  how  near  it  Hands  to  the  almighty  feat. 

Paint  the  new  graces  of  her  eye's  ; 
Frefh  in  her  looks  let  fprightly  youth  arife, 
And  joys  unknown  below  the  Ikies. 
Virtue,  that  lives  conceal'd  below, 

And  to  the  bread  confiu'd, 
Sits  here  triumphant  on  the  brow, 
And  breaks  with  radiant  glories  through 

The  features  of  the  mind. 
Exprefs  her  paffion  ftill  the  fame, 

But  more  divinely  fweet  ; 
Lore  has  an  everlafting  flame, 
And  makes  the  work  complete. 
V. 
The  painter  Mufe,  with  glancing  eye, 
Obferv'd  a  manly  fpirit  nigh* 

That  death  had  long  disjoin'd  : 
"  In  the  fair  tablet  they  fhall  ftand 
"  United  by  a  happier  band," 
She  faid,  and  fix'd  her  fight,  and  drew  the  manly  mind. 

*  My  grandfather,  Mr.  Thomas  Watts,  had  fuch  ac- 
quaintance with  the  mathematics,  painting,  mufic,  and 
poefy,  &c.  as  gave  him  confderable  ejleem  among  his  con- 
temporaries. He  <was  commander  of  a  flip  of  war, 
1656,  and,  Ly  the  blowing  up  of  thejhip,  in  the  Dutch 
<war,  he  was  droivned  in  his  youth. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD. 


129 


Recount  the  years,  my  fong,  (  a  mournful  round  !) 

Since  he  was  feen  on  earth  no  more  : 

He   fought  on  lower  feas,   and   drown'd  ; 

But  victory  and  peace  he  found 
On  the  fuperior  ihore. 
There  now  his  tuneful  breath  in  facred  fongs 
Employs  the  European  and  the  Eaftern  tongue:. 

Let  th'awful  truncheon  and  the  flute, 

The  pencil  and  the  well-known  lute, 

Powerful  numbers,  charming  wit, 

And  every  art  and  fcience  meet,  f_his  feet. 

And  bring  their  laurels  to  his  hand,    or  lay  them  at 
VI. 

'Tis  done.     What  beams  of  glory  fall 

(Rich  varniih  of  immortal  art) 

To  gild  the  bright  original  ! 
'Tis  done.     The  Mufe  has  now  perform'd  her  part. 
Bring  down  the  piece,  Urania,  from  above, 

And  let  my  honour  and  my  love 
Drefs  it  with  chains  of  gold  to  hang  upon  my  heart. 


A    FUNERAL    POEM 
ON'  THE    DEATH    OF    THOMAS    GUXSTON,  ESO^. 

Preft tiled  to  the  Right  Hon.  the  Lady  Abnev, 

Lady  Mayorefs  of  London. 

July,  1.701. 
Madam, 

HAD  I  been  a  common  mourner  at  the  funeral  of 
the  dear  gentleman  deceafed,  I  fhould  have  laboured 
after  more  of  art,  in  the  following  compofition,  to  fup- 
ply  the  defect  of  nature,  and  to  feign  a  forrow  ;  but 
the  uncommon  condefcenfion  of  his  friend/hip  to  me, 
the  inward  efteem  I  pay  his  memory,  and  the  vaft  and 
W 


130     LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  III. 

tender  fenfe  I  have  of  the  lofs,  make  all  the  methods  of 
art  needlefs,  whilft  natural  grief  fupplies  more  than  all. 

I  had  refolvcd,  indeed,  to  lament  in  lighs  and  filence, 
and  frequently  checked  the  too  forward  Mufe  :  but  the 
importunity  was  not  to  be  refilled  ;  long  lines  of  for- 
row  flowed  in  upon  me  ere  I  was  aware,  whilft  I  took 
many  a  folitary  walk  in  the  garden  adjoining  to  his  feat 
at  Newington  ;  nor  could  I  free  myfclf  from  the  crowd 
of  melancholy  ideas.  Your  Ladyfhip  will  find  through- 
out the  Poem,  that  the  fair  and  unfinifhed  building 
■which  he  had  juft  raifed  for  himfelf,  gave  almoft  all  the 
turn  of  mourning  to  my  thoughts  ;  for  I  purfue  no  o- 
ther  topic  of  elegy  than  what  mypaflion  arrd  my  fenfes 
led  me  to. 

The  Poem  roves,  as  my  eyes  and  grief  did,  from  one 
part  of  the  fabric  to  the  other  ;  it  rifes  from  the  foun- 
dation, falutes  the  walls,  the  doors,  and  the  windows, 
drops  a  tear  upon  the  roof,  and  climbs  the  turret,  that 
pleafant  retreat,  where  I  promifed  myfclf  many  fweet 
hours  of  his  conveifation  ;  there  my  fong  wanders 
among  the  delighful  fubje&s,  divine  and  moral,  which 
ufed  to  entertain  our  happy  leifure  ;  and  thence  defcends 
to  the  fields  and  the  fhady  walks,  where  I  fo  often  en- 
joyed his  pleafing  difcourfe  ;  my  forrows  diffufe  them- 
felves  there  without  a  limit  :  I  had  quite  forgotten  all 
feheme  and  method  of  writing,  till  I  corrtdl  myfelf,  and 
rife  to  the  turret  again  to  lament  that  defolate  feat. 
Now  if  the  critics  laugh  at  the  folly  of  the  Mufe,  for 
taking  too  much  notice  of  the  golden  ball,  let  them 
confider  that  the  meaneft  thing  that  belonged  to  fo  va- 
luable a  perfon,  ftill  gave  fome  frefii  and  doleful  reflec- 
tions :  and  I  tranferibe  Nature  without  rule,  and  rcpre- 
fent  Friendship  in  a  mourning  drefs,  abandoned  to  the 
deeped  furrow,  and  with  a  negligence  becoming  woe 
unfeigned. 

Had  I  defigned  a  complete  Elegy,  Madam,  on  your 
deareft  brother,   and  intended   it   for  public   view,    I 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD. 


271 


fhould  have  followed  the  ufual  forms  of  poetry,  Co  far  at 
leaft  as  to  fpend  fome  pages  in  the  character  and  praifes 
of  the  deceaftd,  and  thence  have  taken  occafion  to  call 
mankind  to  complain  aloud  of  the  univerfal  and  un- 
fpeakable  lofs  :  but  I  wrote  merely  for  rnyfelf,  as  a 
friend  of  the  dead,  and  to  eafe  my  full  foul  by  breathing; 
out  my  own  complaints  :  I  knew  his  character  and 
virtues  fo  well,  that  there  was  no  need  to  mention  them 
while  I  talked  only  with  myfelf ;  for  the  image  of  them 
was  ever  prefent  with  me,  which  kept  the  pain  at  the 
heart  intenfe  and  lively,  and  my  tears  flowing  with  my 
verfe. 

Perhaps  your  Ladyfhip  will  expect  fome  divine 
thoughts  and  facred  meditations  mingled  with  a  fub- 
ject  fo  folemn  as  this  is.  Had  I  formed  a  defign  of 
offering  it  to  your  hands,  I  had  compofed  a  more  Chrifl- 
ian  Poem  ;  but  it  was  grief,  purely  natural,  for  a  death 
fo  furprifing  that  drew  all  the  ftrokes  of  it,  and  there- 
fore my  reflections  are  chiefly  of  a  moral  drain.  Such 
as  it  is,  your  Ladyfliip  requires  a  copy  of  it  ;  but  let 
it  not  touch  your  foul  too  tenderly,  nor  renew  your  own 
mournings.  Receive  it,  Madam,  as  an  offering  of  love 
and  tears  at  the  tomb  of  a  departed  Friend,  and  let  Ft 
abide  with  you  as  a  witnefs  of  that  affectionate  refpect 
and  honour  that  I  bore  him  :  all  which,  as  your  Lady- 
fhip's  moft  rightful  due,  both  by  merit  and  by  fuc- 
ceflion,  is  now  humbly  offered  by, 

Madam, 

Your  Ladyfhip's  mcfl  hearty 

and  obedient  fervant, 

/.     WATTS., 


232      LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  III. 


TO    THE    DEAR     MEMORY    OF    MY     HONOURED    FRIEND, 

THOMAS     OUNSTON,     £  S  (£. 

WHO    DIED    NOV.    II,    1 7OO,    WHEN     HE     HAD     ' 
JUST       FINISHED     HIS      SEAT     AT      NEWINGTON. 

OF  blafted  hopes,  and  of  fhort  withering  joys, 
Sing  heav'nly  Mufe.      Try  thine  ether  ial  voice 
In  funeral  numbers  and  a  doleful  fong. 
GUNSTON  the juft,   the  generous,  and  the  young-; 
GUNSTON  the  friend  is  dead  !    °  empty  name 
Of  earthly  blifs  !    'tis  all  an  airy  dream  ; 
All  a  vain  thought  !    Our  fearing  fancies  rife 
On  treacherous  wings  ;   and  hopes  that  touch  the  fkie& 
Drag  but  a  longer  ruin  through  the  downward  air, 
And  plunge  the  falling  joy  It: 111  deeper  in  defpair. 

How  did  our  fouls  ftand  flatter'd  and  prepar'd 
To  fnout  him  welcome  to  the  feat  he  rear'd  ! 
There  the   dear  man  fhould  fee  his  hopes  complete, 
Smiling,  and  tailing  ev'ry  lawful  fweet 
That  peace  and   plenty   bring,    while  numerous  years, 
Circling  delightful,  play'd  around  the  fpheres  : 
Revolving  funs  mould  ftill  renew  his  flrength, 
And  draw  the  uncommon  thread  to  an  unufual  length  ! 
But  hafty  Fate  thrufts  her  dead  (hears  between, 
Cuts  the  young  life  off,  and  fhuts  up  the  fcene. 
Thus  airy  pleafnre  dances  in  our  eyes, 
And  fpreads  falfe  images   in  fair  difguifc 
T'allure  our  fouls,  till  juft  within  our  arms 
The  vifion  dies,  and  all  the  pointed  charms 
Flee  quick,  away  from   the  purfuing  fight, 
Till  they  are  loft  in  (hades,  and  mingle  with  the  night. 

Mufe,  ftretch  thy  wings,  and  thy  fad  journey  bend 
To  the  fair  fabric  that  thy  dying  friend 
Built  namelefa  :   'twill  flight  a  thoufand  things 
Mournful  aad  foft,  as  my  Urauia  fings. 


.  I 

;ies  !  J 

} 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD.         233 

How  did  he  lay  the  deep  foundations  ftrong, 
Marking  the  bounds,   and  rear  the  walls  along 
Solid  and  lading  !    there  a  numerous  train 
Of  happy  GUNSTONS  might  in  pleafure  reign, 
While  nations  perifh,  and  long  ages  run  ; 
Nations  unborn,  and  ages  unbegun  ! 
Not  Time  itfelf  mould  wade  the  blefs'd  eftate,  . 
Nor  the  tenth  race  rebuild  the  ancient  feat. 
How  fond  our  fancies  are  !    The  founder  dies 
Childlefs  ;    his  fillers  weep  and  clofe  his  eyes, 
And  wait  upon  his  hearfe  with  never-ceafing   cri 
Lofty  and  flow  it  moves  to  meet  the  tomb, 
While  weighty  forrow  nods  on  ev'ry  plume  : 
A  thoufand  groans  his  dear  remains  convey 
To  his  cold  lodging  in  a  bed  of  clay, 
His  country's  facred  tears  well  wat'ring  all  the  way. 
See  the  dull  wheels  roll  on  the   fable  load  ; 
But  no  dear  fon  to  tread  the  mournful  road, 
And  fondly  kind,  drop  his  young  forrows  there  ; 
'The  father's  urn  bedewing  with  a  filial  tear. 
Oh  !   had  he  left  us  one  behind  to  play 
Wanton  about  the  painted  hall,  and  fay,- 
"  This  was  my  father's  !"  with  impatient  joy 
In  my  fond  arms  I'd  clafp  the  fmiling  boy, 
And  call  him  my  young  friend  :    but  awful  Fate 
Defign'd  the  mighty  ftroke  as  lading  as  'twas  great. 

And  mud  this  building,  then,  this  coftly  frame 
Stand  here  for  ftrangers  ?  mull  fome  unknown  name 
Poffefs  thefe  rooms,  the  labours  of  my  friend  ? 
Why  were  thefe  walls  rais'd  for  this  haplefs  end  i 
Why  thefe  apartments  all  adorn'd  fo  gay  ? 
Why  his  rich  fancy  lavifh'd  thus  away  ? 
Mufe,  view  the  paintings,  how  the  hovering  light 
Plays  o'er  the  colours  in  a  wanton  flight  ; 
And  mingled  fhades,  wrought  in  by  foft  degrees, 
Give  a  fweet  foil  to  all  the  charming  piece  j 
W2 


234      LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  Hr. 

But  night,  eternal  night,  hangs  black  around 
The  difmal  chambers  of  the  hollow  ground, 
And  folid  (hades  unmingled  round  his  bed 
Stand  hideous  :   earthly  fogs  embrace  his  head, 
And  noifome  vapours  glide  along  his  face, 
.Rifing  perpetual.      Mufe,  forfake  the  place, 
Flee  the  raw  damps  of  the  unwholefome  clay, 
Look  to  his  airy  fpacious  hall,  and  fay, 
**  How  has  he  chang'd  it  for  a  lonefome  cave, 
*'■  Confin'd  and  crowded  in  a  narrow  grave  !" 

Th'unhappy  houfe  looks  defolate  and  mourns  ;. 
And  ev'ry  door  groans  doleful  as  it  turns  : 
The  pillars  languifh  ;  and  each  lofty  wall, 
Stately  in  grief,  laments  the  mailer's  fall 
In  drops  of  briny  dew  ;   the  fabric  bears 
His  faint  refemblance,  and  lenews  my  tears. 
Solid  and  fquare  it  rifes  from  below.; 
A  noble  air,  without  a  gaudy  fhow, 
Reigns  through  the  model,  and  adorns  the  whole, 
Manly  and  plain.     Such  was  the  builder's  foul.. 

Oh  !   how  I  love  to  view  the  (lately  frame, 
That  dear  memorial  of  the  bell  lov'd  name  ! 
Then  could  I  wifh  for  feme  prodigious  cave, 
Vaft  as  his  feat,  and  filent  as  his  grave, 
Where  the  tall  fhades  llretch  to  the  hideous  roof,- 
Forbid  the  day,  and  guard  the   fun-beams  off: 
Thither,  my  willing  feet,  fhould  ye  be  drawn 
At  the  grey  twilight  and  the  eaily  dawn  ; 
There,  fweetly  fad,  fhould  my  foft  minutes  roll, 
Numb'ring  the  forrows  of  my  drooping  foul. 
But  thefe  are  airy  thoughts  !   fubflantial  grief 
Grows  by  thofc  objects  that  fhould   yield  relief  ! 
Fond  of  my  woes,    I  heave  my  eyes  around  ; 
My  grief  from  ev'ry  profped  courts  a  wound  ; 
Views  the  green  gat  dens,  views  the  fmiling  Ikies. 
Still  my  heart  finks,  and  (till  my  cares  arifc  : 


TO  THE  MEMORV  OF  THE  DEAD. 


235 


My  wand 'ring  feet  round  the  fair  manfion  rove, 
And  there,  to  footh  my  forrows,  I  indulge  my  love. 

Oft  have  I  laid  the  awful  Calvin  by, 
And  the  fvveet  Cowley,  with  impatient  eye 
To  fee  thofe  walls,  pay  the  fad  vifit  there, 
And  drop  the  tribute  of  an  hourly  tear  : 
Still  I  behold  fome  melancholy  fcene  [twecn. 

With  many  a    penfive  thought,   and   many  a  ligh  be- 
Two  days  ago  wc  took  the  evening  air, 
I,  and  my  grief,  and  my  Urania  there  : 
Say,  my  Urania,  how  the  weftern  fun 
Broke  from  black  clouds,  and  in  full  glory  fhone, 
Gilding  the  roof,  then  dropp'd  into  the  fea, 
And  fudden  night  devour'd  the  fweet  remains  of  day. 
Thus  the  bright  youth  juft  rear'd  his  fliining  head 
From  obfeure  fnades  of  life,  and  funk  among  the  dead, 
The  rifing  fun,  adorn'd  with  all  his  light, 
Smiles  on  thefe  walls  again  ;    but  endlefs  night 
Reigns  uncontroul'd  where  the  dear  GUNSTON  lies; 
He's  fet  for  ever,  and  muft  never  rife  ! 
Then  why  thefe  beams,  unfeafonable  ftar, 
Thefe  lightfome  Imiles  defcending  from  afar, 
To  greet  a  mourning  houfe  ?  In  vain  the  day 
Breaks  through  ihe  windows  with  a  joyful  ray, 
And  marks  a  mining  path  along  the  floors, 
Bounding  the  evening  and  the  morning  homs  :    - 
In  vain  it  bounds  'em,  while  vail  emptinefs 
And  hollow  filence  reigns  through  all  the  place, 
Nor  heeds  the  cheerful  change  of  nature's  face. 
Yet  nature's  wheels  will  on  without  controul  ; 
The  fun  will  rife,   the  tuneful  fpheres  will  roll,  _ 
And  the  two  nightly  bears  walk  round  &  watch  the  pole. 

See,  while  I  fpeak,  high  on  her  fable  wheel, 
Old  Night,  advancing,    climbs  the  eaftern  hill  : 
Troops  of  dark  clouds  prepare  her  way  ;   behold, 
How  thtir  brown  pinions,  edg'd  with  evening  gold;, 


236      Ll'RIC    POEMS,     Book  III. 

Spread  fhadowing  o'er  the  houfe,  and  glide  away, 

Slowly  purfuing  the  declining  day  : 

O'er  the  broad  roof  they  fly  their  circuit  (till  ; 

Thus  days  before  they  did,  and  days  to  come  they  will : 

But  the  black  cloud,  that   fhadows  o'er  his  eyes, 

Hangs  there  immoveable,  and  never  flies  : 

Fain  would  I  bid  the  envious  gloom  be    gone  ;  T 

Ah  !    fruitlefs  wifh  !    how  are  his  curtains  diawn        > 

For  a  long  evening  that  defpairs  the  dawn  !  J 

Mufe,  view  the  turret  !  jufl  beneath  the  fkies, 
Lonefome  it  ftands,  and  fixes  my  fad  eyes 
As  it  would  afk  a  tear.      O  facred  feat, 
Sacred  to  friendfhip  !    O  divine  retreat  ! 
Here  did  I  hope  my  happy  hours  t'employ, 
And  fed  beforehand  on   the  promis'd  joy  ! 
When  weary  of  the  noify  town,  my  friend, 
From  mortal  cares  retiring,    fhould  afcend 
And  lead  me  thither.     We  alone  wou'd  lit, 
Free  and   fecure  of  all  intruding  feet  : 
Our  thoughts  fhould  ftretch  their  longcft  wings,and  rife, 
Nor  bound  their  foarings  by  the  lower  Ikies  : 
Our  tougues  fhould  aim  at  everlafling  themes, 
And  fpeak   what  mortals  dare,  of  all  the  names 
Of  boundlefs  joys  and  glories,  thrones  and  feats 
Built  high  in  Heaven  for  fouls  :    we'd  trace  the  flreets 
Of  golden  pavement,  walk  each  blifsful  field,    [yield  ; 
And  climb   and   tafle  the    fruits  the   fpicy  mountains 
Then  would  we  fwear  to  keep  the  facred  road, 
And  walk  right  upwards  to  that  blefs'd  abode  ; 
We'd  charge  our  parting  fpirits  there  to  meet  ; 
There,  hand  in  hand,  approach  th'almighty  feat, 
And. bend  our  heads,  adoring,  at  our  Maker's  feet. 
Thus  fhould  we  mouut  on  bold  adven'trous  wings 
In  \\\y\\  difeourfe,  and  dwell  on  heav'nly  things, 
While  the  pleas'd  hours  in  fweet  fucceffion  move, 
And  minutes  meafur'd,  as  they  are  above, 
By  ever-circling  joys,  and  ever-lhiaing'love. 


} 
} 


TO  THE   MEMORY   OF  THE  DEAD.         237 

Anon  our  thoughts  fiiould  lower  their  lofty  flight, 
Sink  by  degrees,  and  take  a  pleafing  fight, 
A  large  round  profpe£i  of  the  fprcading  plain, 
The  wealthy  river,  and  his  winding  train, 
The  fmoky  city,  and  the  bufy  men. 
How  we  fliould  fmile  to  fee  degenerate  worms 
L,3vifh  their  lives,  and  fight  for  airy  forms. 
Of  painted  honour,  dreams  of  empty  found, 
Till  envy  rife,  and  flioot  a  fecret  wound 
At  fwelling  glory  ;   ftrait  the  bubble  breaks, 
And  the  fcenes  vanifh  as  the  man  awakes  ; 
Then  the  tall  titles,  infolent  and  proud, 
Sink  to  the  dull,  and  mingle  with  the  crowd.    . 

Man  is  a  reftlefs  thing  :    ftill  vain  and  wild, 
Lives  beyond  fixty,  nor  outgrows  the  child  : 
His  hurrying  lulls  il ill  break  the  facred  bound 
To  feek  new  pleafures  on  forbidden  ground, 
And  buy  them  all  too  dear.      Unthinking  fool, 
For  a  (hort  dying  joy  to  fell  a  deathlefs  foul  ! 
'Tis  but  a  grain  of  fweetnefs  they  can  fow, 
And  reap  the  long  fad  harveft  of  immortal  woe  ! 


Another  tribe  toil  in  a  different  ftrife, 
And  banifh  all  the  lawful  fweets  of  life 
To  fweat  and  dig  for  gold,  to  hoard  the  ore, 
Hide  the  dear  duft  yet  darker  than  before, 
And  never  dare  to  ufe  a  grain  of  all  the  {lore. 

Happy  the  man  that  knows  the  value  juft 
Of  earthly  things,  nor  is  enflav'd  to  duft. 
'Tis  a  rich  gift  the  ikies  but  rarely  fend 
To  fav'rite  fouls.      Then  happy  thou,  my  friend, 
For  thou  hadft  learnt  to  manage  and  command 
The  wealth  that  Heav'n  beftow'd  with  lib'ral  hand  : 
Hence  thic  fair  ftrudture  rofe  ;   and  hence  this  feat. 
Made  to  invite  my  not  unwilling  feet  : 
In  vain  'twas  made  !  for  we  fhr.ll  never  meet 


} 


2j8     Ll'RICPOEMS,      Book  III. 

And  fmile,  and  love,  and  blefs  each  other  here  ; 
The  envious  tomb  forbids  thy  face  t'appear  ; 
Detains  thee,  GUNSTOX,  from  my  longing  eyes, 
And  all  my  hopes  liebury'd  where  my  GUNSTON  lies! 

Come  hither,  all  ye  tendered  fouls,  that  know 
The  heights  of  fondnefs  and  the  depths  of  woe  ; 
Young  mothers,  who  your  darling  babes  have  found 
Untimtly  murder'd  with  a  ghaftly  wound  ; 
Ye  frighted  nymphs,  who  on  the  bridal  bed 
Clafp'd  in  your  arms  your  lovers  cold  and  dead, 
Come  ;    in  the  pomp  of  all  your  wild  defpair, 
With  flowing  eye-lids  and  diforder'd  hair, 
Death  in   your  looks,   come,  mingle  grief  with  me, 
And  drown    your  little  ftreams  in  my  unbounded   fea. 


You  facred  mourners  of  a  nobler  mould, 
Born  for  a  friend,  whofe  dear  embraces  hold 
Beyond  all  nature's  ties  ;    you,  that  have  known 
Two  happy  fouls  made  intimately  one, 
And  felt  a  parting  ftroke  ;    'tis  you  muft  tell 
The  fmart,  the  twinges,  and  the  racks  1  feel  : 
This  foul  of  mine  that  dreadful  wound  has  borne  ; 
Off  from  its  fide  its    dearth:  half  is   torn  ; 
The  reft  lies  bleeding,  and  but  lives  to  mourn. 
Oh  !    infinite  diftrefs  !    fuch  raging  grief 
Should  command  pity,   and  defpair    relief. 
Paffion,  methinks,  fhould  rife  from  all  my  groans, 
Give  fenfe  to  rocks,  and  fympathy  to  ftones. 


} 


Ye  du/ky  woods  and  echoing  hills  around, 
Repeat  my  cries  with  a  perpetual  found  : 
Be  all  ye  flow'ry  vales  with  thorns  o'ergrown, 
Affift  my  forrows,  and  declare  your  own  ; 
Alas  !   your  Lord  is  dead.      The  humble  plain 
Mull  ne'er  receive  his  courteous  feet  again. 
Mourn,  ye  gay  fmiling  meadows,   and  be  feen 
In  wintry  robes,  inltead  of  youthful  green  1 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE   DEAD.  CI39 

And  bid  the  brook,  that  ftill  runs   warbling  by, 
Move  lilent  on,  and  weep  his  uftltfs  channel  dry. 
Hither  methinks  the  lowing  herd  fhonld  come, 
And  moaning  turtles  murmur  o'er  his  tomb  : 
The  oak  ill  a  11  wither,    and   the  curling  vine  T 

Wctp  his  young  life  out,   while  his  arms  entwine       ( 
Their  amorous  folds,  and  mix  hie.  bleeding  foul  with  f 
mine.  J 

Ye  ftatcly  elms,  in  your  long  order  mourn*, 
Strip  off  your  pride  to  drtfs  your  matter's  urn  : 
Here  gently  drop  your  leaves  inftead  of  tears  : 
Yc  elms,  the  reverend  growth    of  ancient  years, 
Stand  tall  and  naked  to  the  bluftering   rage 
Of  the  mad  winds  ;  thus  it   becomes  your  age 
To  fhew  your  forrows.      Often  ye  have  feen 
Our  heads  reclin'd  upon  the  riling  green  ; 
Beneath  your  facred  fhade  difftis'd  we  lay, 
Here  friendship  reign'd  with  an   unbounded  fway  : 
Hither  our  fouls  their  conttant  off'rings   brought 
The  burthens  cf  the  breaft,  and  labours  of  the  thought. 
Our  opening  bofoms  on  the  confeious  ground 
Spread  all  the  forrows  and  the  joys  we  found, 
And  mingled  every  care  ;    nor  was  it  known 
Which  of  the  pains  or  pleafures  were  our  own  : 
Then  with  an  equal  hand   and  honed  foul 
We  (hare  the  heap, yet  both  poffefs  the  whole,      [roll 
And  all  the  paffions  there  through  both  our  bofom 
By  turns  we  comfort,  and  by  turns  complain, 
And  bear  and  eafe,  by  tnrns,    the  fympathy  of  pain. 

Friendship  !    mytterious  thing,  what  magic  pow'rs 
Support  thy  fway,  and  charm  thefe  minds  of  ours  ! 
Bound  to  thy  foot  we  boaft  our  birth-right  Mill, 
And  dream  of  freedom  when  we've  loft  our  will 


*  There  was  a  long  row  of  tall  elms  then  flandlng,  where t 
feme  years  after,  the  lower  garden  was  made. 


} 


C40     LYRIC   POEMS,      Book  III. 


And  chang'd  away  our  fouls:   at  thy  command 
We  fnatch  new  miferies  from  a  foreign   hand 
To  call  them  ours  ;   and,  thoughtlefs  of  our  cafe, 
Plague  the  dear  felf  that    we  were  born    to  pltafe. 
Thou  lyrannefs  of  minds,   vvhofe  cruel  throne 
Heaps  on  poor  mortals  furrows  not  their  own  ; 
As  though  our  mother,  Nature,  could  no  more 
Find  woes  fufficient  for  each  fon  (he  bore, 
Friendftiip  divides  the  (hares,  and  lengthens  out  the 

(lore. 
Yet  are  we  food  of  thine  imperious  reign, 
Proud  of  thy  (lavery,  wanton  in  our  pain,  [the  chain. 
And  chide  the  courteous  hand  when  death   diffolves 


Virtue,   forgive  the  thought  !   the  raving  mufe, 
Wild  and  defpairing,  knowes  not  what  (lie  does  ; 
Grows  mad  in  grief,   and,  in  her  fuvage  hours, 
Affronts  the  name  (he  loves  and  (he  adores. 
She  is  thy  vot'refs  too  ;   and  at  thy  (hrine,  ~) 

O  facred  friendship,  offer'd  fongs  divine,      [thine.  > 
While  GUNSTON  liv'd,   and  both  our  fouls  were) 
Here  to  thefe  (hades  at  folemn  hours  we  came, 
To  pay  devotion  with  a  mutual  flame, 
Partners  in  blifs.      Sweet  luxury  of  the  mind  ! 
And  fwcet  the  aids  of  fenfe  !   each  ruder  wind 
Slept  in  its  caverns,  while  an  evening  breeze 
Fann'd  the  leaves  gently,  fporting   through  the  trees  ; 
The  linnet  and  the  lark  their  vefpers  fung, 
And  clouds  of  crimfon  o'er  th'horizon  hung; 
The  flow-declining  fun  with  (loping  wheels 
Sunk  down  the  golden  day  behind  the  weftern  hills. 

Mourn,  ye  young  gardens,  ye  unfini(h'd  gates, 
Ye  green  inclofures,  and  ye  growing  fweets, 
Lament  !    for  ye  our  midnight  hours  have  known, 
And  watch'd  us  walking  by  the  filent  moon 
In  conference  divine,   while  heavenly  fire 
Kindling  our  breads,  did  all  our  thoughts  infpirc 


TO  THE  MEMORY  0>  THE  DEAD.  24 1 

With  joys  almoft  immortal  :   then  our  zeal 
Blaz'd  and  burnt  high  to  reach  th'eth'real  hill, 
And  love  refin'd,  like  that  above  the  poles, 
Threw  both  our  arms  round  one  another's  fouls 
In  rapture  and  embraces. — Oh  !    forbear, 
Forbear,  my  fotig  !   This  is  too  much  to  hear, 
Too  dreadful  to  repeat  ;   fuch  joys  as  thefe 
Fled  from  the  earth  forever  ! ■  ■■  ■  r 

Oh  !  for  a  general  grief  !   let  all  things  mare 
Our  woes  that  know  our  loves  :   the  neighbouring  air, 
Let  it  be  laden  with  immortal  fighs, 
And  tell  the  gales,  that  every  breath  that  flies 
Over  thefe  fields,  mould  murmur  and   complain, 
And  kifs  the  fading  grafs,  and  propagate  the  pain. 
Weep,  all  ye  buildings,  and,  ye  groves  around, 
For  ever  weep  :   this  is  an  endlefs  wound, 
Vaft  and  incurable.     Ye  buildings  knew 
His  filver  tongue  ;  ye  groves  have  heard  it  too  : 
At  that  dear  found  no  more  (hall  ye  rejoice, 
And  I  no  more  rnuft  hear  the  charming  voice  : 
Woe  to  my  drooping  foul  !   that  heav'nly  breath 
That  could  fpeak  life,  lies  now  congeal'd  in  death  ; 
While  on  his  folded  lips,  all  cold  and  pale, 
Eternal  chains  and  heavy  filence  dwell ! 

Yet  my  fond  hope  would  hear  him  fpeak  again, 
Once  more  at  leaft,  one  gentle  word,  and  then 
GUNSTON  aloud  I  call  :  in  vain  I  cry 
GUNSTON  aloud,  for  he  mult  ne'er  reply  ! 
In  vain  I  mourn,  and  drop  thefe  funeral  tears  ; 
Death  and  the  grave  have  neither  eyes  nor  ears. 
Wand'ring,  I  tune  my  forrows  to  the  groves, 
And  ventmyfwelling  griefs,and  tell  the  winds  our  loves: 
While  the  dear  youth  fleeps  fart,  and  hears  them  not  ; 
He  hath  forgot  me  in  the  lonefome  vault, 
Mindkfs  of  WATTS  and  friendfhip>  cold  he  lies, 
Deaf  and  unthinking  clay  !-■. 


242     LTRIC    POEMS,     Book  III. 


1 


But  whither  am  I  led  ?  this  artlcfs  grief 
Hurries  the  Mufe  on,  obth'nate  and  deaf 
To  all  the  nicer  rules,  and  bears  her  down 
From  the  tall  fabric  to  the  neighbouring  ground 
The  pleafing  hours,  the  happ,y  moments,  patt 
In  thefe  fweet  fields,  reviving  on  my  tafte, 
Snatch  me  away  refiftlcfs  with  impetuous  hafte. 
Spread  thy  ftrong  pinions  once  again,  my  fong, 
And  reach  the  turret  thou  halt  left  fo  long  : 
O'er  the  wide  roof  its  lofty  head  it  rears, 
Long  waiting  our  converfe  ;  but  only  hears 
The  noify  tumults  of  the  realms  on  high  ; 
The  winds  falute  it,  whittling  as  they  fly, 
Or  jarring  round  the  windows  :   rattling  fhowera 
Lafh  the  fair  fides  ;  above,  loud  thunder  roars  : 
But  dill  the  mailer  fleeps  ;    nor  hears  the  voice 
Of  facred  friendship,  nor  the  tempeft's  noife  : 
An  iron  (lumber  fits  on  every  fenfe  ; 
In  vain  the  heavenly  thunders  drive  to  roufe  it  thence. 

One  labour  more,  my  Mufe,  the  golden  fphere 
Seems  to  demand  :   See,  through  the  dufky  air 
Downward  it  fhines  upon  the  riling  moon  ; 
And,  as  flie  labours  up  to  reach'  her  noon, 
Purfues  her  orb  with  repurcuflive  light, 
And  llrcaming  gold  repays  the  paler  beams  of  night  : 
But  not  one  ray  can  reach  the  darkfome  grave, 
Or  pierce  the  folid  gloom  that  fills  the  cave 
Where  GUNSTON  dwells  in  death.    Behold,  it  flames 
Like  fome  new  meteor,  with  diffufive  beams 
Through  the  mid-heaven,   and  overcomes  the  ftars  ; 
"So  fhines  thyGUNSTON'sfoulabove  the  fphcres,' 
Raphael  replies,  and  wipes  away  my  tears. 
"  We  faw  the  fltfh  fink  down  with  clofing  eyes  ; 
"  We  heard  thy  grief  Ihriek  out,  '  he  dies,  he  dies  !' 
li  Miftaken  grief  !    to  call  the  flefh  the  friend  ! 
"  On  our  fair  wings  did  the  bright  youth  afcend  : 


i 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD. 


*+o 


«'  All  heav'n  embrac'd  him  with  immortal  love, 

••  And  fang  his  welcome  to  the  courts  above. 

"  Gentle  Ithuriel  led  him  round  the  Ikies  ; 

«<  The  buildings  ftruck  him  with  immenfe  furprife  ; 

'•  The  fpires  all  rr.diant,  and  the  manfions  bright, 

*'  The  roofs  high  vaulted  with  ethereal  light  : 

*'  Beauty  and  (trength  on  the  tall  bulwarks  fat 

"  In  heavenly  diamond  ;  and  for  every  gate 

"  On  golden  hinges  a  broad  ruby  turns, 

"  Guards  off  the  foe,  and  as  it  moves  it  burns  : 

"  Millions  of  glories  reign  through  every  part  ; 

"  Infinite  power,  and  uncreated  art 

*'  Stand  here  difplay'd,  and  to  the  ftranger  (how 

"  How  it  outfhines  the  noble.1  feats  below. 

"  The  ftranger  fed  his  gazing  pow'rs  awhile, 

"  Tranfported  ;  then,  with  a  regardlefs  fmile, 

'*  Glanc'd  his  eye  downward  thro'   the  cryftal  floor, 

"  And  took  eternal  leave  of  what  he  built  before  !" 


Now  fair  Urania,  leave  the  doleful  drain  ; 
Raphael  commands  :  aflume  thy  joys  again  ; 
In  everlafting  numbers  fing,  and  fay,  f of  day 

"  GUNSTON  has  mov'd  his  dwellinj 
»  GUNSTON  the  friend   lives  ftill 
groans  away." 


ys  again  ; 
y,  f of  day  ;"1 

ling  to  the  realms  ( 
ill  ;  and  give  thy  l" 


244     LT  RIC   P  O  E  M  S,     Book  III. 


AN    ELEGY    ON    MR.    THOMAS    GOUGE. 

TO     MR.      ARTHUR      SHALLET,      MERCHANT. 
Worthy  Sir, 

THE  fubjecl:  of  the  following  Elegy  was  high  in 
your  cfteem,  and  enjoyed  a  large  /hare  of  your  affec- 
tions. Scarce  doth  his  memory  need  the  afllflance  of 
the  Muff  to  make  it  perpetual  ;  but,  when  fhe  can  at 
once  pay  ber  honours  to  the  venerable  dead,  and  by  this 
addrtfs  acknowledge  the  favours  Hie  has  received  from 
?he  living,  it  is  a  double  pleafure  to, 

Sir,    your  obliged  humble  fervant, 
/.   WATTS. 


TO    THE    MEMORY    OF 
THE    REV.    MR.    THOMAS    GOUGE, 
WHO    DIED    JAN.    8,     1699-1700. 
I. 

YE  virgin  fouls,  whofe  fvveet  complaint  f 
Could  teach  Euphrates  not  to  flow, 
Could  Sion's  ruin  fo  divinely  paint, 

Array'd  in  beauty  and  in  woe  : 

Awake,  ye  virgin  fouls,  to  mourn, 
And  with  your  tuneful  forrows   drefs  a  prophet's  urn. 

Oh  !  could  my  lips  or  flowing  eyes 
But  imitate  fuch  charming  grief, 

I'd  teach  the  feas,  and  teach. the  fkies 

Wailings,  and  fobs,  and  fympathies  ; 

Nor  fhould  the  flones  or  rocks  be  deaf  : 

Rocks  /hall  have  eyes,  and  flones  have  ears, 
While  GOUGE's  death  is  mourn'd  in  melody  and  tears. 

f  Pfalm  exxxvii.     Lam.  i.  3,  3. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD.        245 

II. 

Heav'n  was  impatient  of  our  crimes, 
And  fent  his  minifter  of  death 

To  fcourge  the  bold  rebellion  of  the  times, 

And  to  demand  our  prophet's  breath  : 
He  came,  commiflion'd  for   the   fates 
Of  awful  Mead  and  charming  Bates  : 
There  he  efiay'd  the  vengeance  firft,  [to  dulh 

Then  took  a  difmal  aim,  and  brought  great  GOUGE 

III. 
Great  GOUGE  to  dull  !   how  doleful  is  the  found  ! 
How  vail  the  ftroke  is  !  and  how  wide  the  wound  1 
Oh  !  painful  ftroke  !   diftrefiing  death  ! 
A  wound  unmeafurably   wide  ! 

No  vulgar  mortal   dy'd 
When  he  refign'd   his  breath. 
TheMufe,  that  mourns  a  nation's  fall3 
Should  wait  at  GOUGE's  funeral  ; 
Should  mingle  majefty  and  groans, 
Such  as  fhe  lings  to  finking  thrones, 
And,  in  deep  founding  numbers,  tell  . 
How  Sion  trembled  when   this  pillar  fell. 
Sion  grows  weak  and  England  poor  : 
Nature  herfelf,  with  all  her  (lore, 
Can  furnilh  fuch  a  pomp  for  death  no  more. 

IV. 
The  reverend  man  let  all   things  mourn  ; 
Sure  he  was  fome  ethereal  mind, 
Fated  in  flefii  to  be  confin'd, 
And  order'd  to  be  bom. 
His  foul  was  of  th'angelic  frame  ; 
The  fame  ingredients,   and  the  mould   the  fame 
When  the  Creator  makes  a  minifter  of  flame. 

He  was  all  form'd  of  heav'nly  things  : 
Mortals,  believe  what  my  Urania  lings  ; 
For  (ha  has  feen  him  rife  upon  his  flamy  wing3. 
X  2 


246     LYRIC    P  O  E  M  S,      Book  IfL 

v. 

How  would  he  mount,  how  would  he  fly 
Up  through  the  ocean  of  the  Iky, 

T'ward  the  celeftial  coaft  ! 
With  what  amazing  fwiftnefs  foar, 
Till  earth's  dark  ball  was  feen  no  more, 

And  all  its  mountains  loll  ! 
Scarce  could  the  Mnfe  purfuc  him  with  her  fight  5. 

But  angels,  you  can  tell  ! 
For  oft  you  met  his  wondrous  flight, 

And  knew  the  ftrangcr  well  : 
Say,  how  he  pafs'd  the  radiant  fpheres. 
And  vifited  your  happy  feats,  [ftreets, 

And  trac'd  the  well  known   turnings  of  the   golden 

And  walk'd  among  the  flats. 

VI. 

Ttll  how  he  climb'd  the  everlafting  hills, 

Surveying  all  the  realms  above, 
I3orne  on  a  ftrong  wing'd. faith,  and  on  the  fiery  wheels 
Of  an  immortal  love. 

'Twas  there  he  took  a  glorious  fight  • 

Of  the  inheritance  of  faints  in  light, 
find  read  their  title  i«  their  Saviour's  right. 

How  oft  the  humble  fcholar  came, 

And  to  your  fongs  he  rais'd  his  ears 

To  learn  the  unutterable   name  ; 

To  view  th'eternal  bafe  that  bears 
The  new  creation's  fiamc. 

The  countenance  of  God  he  faw  ; 
Full  of  mercy,  full  of  awe, 
The  glories  of  his  pow'r  and  glories  of  his  grace  | 
There  he  beheld  the  wondrous  fprings 

Of  thofe  celeftial  facred  things, 
The  peaceful  gofpel  and  the  fiery  law, 

In  that  niajeftic   face. 
That  face  did  all  his  gazing  pow'rs  employ, 
"With  moft  profound  abafement  and  exalted  joy. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD. 


247 


The  rolls  of  fate  were  half  unfeal'd. 

He  ftood  adoring  by  : 
The  volumes  open'd  to  his  eye, 
And  fweet   intelligence  he  held 
With  all  his  mining  kindred  of  the  fky. 
VII. 
Ye  feraphs  that  furround  the  throne, 
Tell  how  his  name  was  through  the  palace  known  5 
How  warm  his  zeal  was,  and  how  like  your  own  ! 
Speak  it  aloud,  let  all  the  nations  hear, 

And  bold  blafphemers  ihrink  and  fearf  : 
Impudent  tongues,  to  bLalt  a  prophet's  name  !     . 
The  poifon  fure  was  fetch'd  from  hell, 

Where  the  old   blafphemers  dwell, 
To  taint  the  pureft  duft  and  blot  the  whitefl  fame  ! 
Impudent  tongues,  you  mould  be  darted  through, 
Nail'd  to  your  own  black  mouths,  and  lie 
Ufeiefs  and  dead  till  flander  die  ; 
Till  flander  die  with   you. 

VIII. 
"  We  faw  him,"  fay  th'ethereal  throng  3 
'*  We  faw  his  warm  devotions  rife  ; 
"  We  heard  the  fervor  of  his  cries, 
"  And  mix'd  his  praifes  with  our  fong. 
"  We  knew  the  fecret  flights  of  his  retiring  hours  ; 

"  Nightly  he  wak'd  his  inward  pow'rs  : 
"  Young  Ifrael  rofe  to  wreftle  with  his  God,  Cers, 

"  And  with  unconquer'd  force  fcal'd  the  celeftial  tow- 
"  To  reach  the  bleflings  down  for  thofe  that  fought  his 
"  Oft  we  beheld  the  thunderer's  hand  [blood.. 

"  Rais'd  high  to  crufh  the  factious  foe  ; 
"  As  oft  we  faw  the  rolling  vengeance  ftand, 

"  Doubtful  t'obey  the  dread  command, 
a  While  his  afcending  pray'r  upheld  the  falling  blow." 

\  Though  he  ivas  Jo  great  and  good  a  man)  hi  did  not 
efcape  cenfure. 


24«     LTRIC   PO  E  MS,      Book  III., 
IX. 

Draw  the  pall  fcenes  of  thy  delight, 
My  Mufc,  and  bring  the  wondrous  man  to  fight. 

Place  him  furrounded  as  he  flood 

With  pious  crowds,  while  from  his  tongue 
A  ftream  of  harmony  ran  foft  along, 
And  every  ear  drank  in   the  flowing  good. 

Softly  it   ran  its  filver  way, 
Till  warm   devotion  raiVd  the  current   ftrong  : 
Then  fervid  aeal  on  the  fweet  deluge  rode  ; 

Life,  love  and  glory,  grace  and  joy, 
Divinely  roll'd  promifenous  on  the  torrent  flood, 
And  bore  our  raptur'd  fenfe  away,  and'thoughts  and  j 
fouls  to  God. 

O  might  we  dwell  for  ever  there  ! 
No  more  return  to  breathe  this  grofler  air, 
This  atmofphere  of  fin,  calamity  and  care  1 

X. 

But  heavetily  fcenes- foon  leave  the  fight 

While  we  belong  to  clay;  , 
Paffions  of  terror  and  delight 

Demand  alternate  fway. 

Behold  the  man,  whole  awful  voice 

Could  well  proclaim  the  fiery  law, 

Kindle  the  flames   that  Mofes  faw, 

And  fwell  the  trumpet's  warlike  noife  : 
He  Hands  the  herald  of  the  threat'ning  fkics  ; 
Lo,  on  his  reverend  brow  the  frowns  divinely  rife, 
All  Sinai's  thunder  on  his  tongue,  and  lightning  in  his 

Round  the  high  roof  the  curfes  flew,  Ceycs> 

DHlinguifhing  each  guilty  head  ; 
Far  from  th'unequal  war  th'atheift  fled  : 

His  kindled  arrows  ftill  purfue  ; 

His  arrows  ftrike  the  atheiil  through, 
And  o'er  hie  inmoft  povv'rs  a  fhuddering  horror  fprcad, 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OK  THE  DEAD. 


249 


The  marble  heart  groans  with  an  inward  wound  : 

Blafpheming  fouls,  of  harden'd  iteel, 
Shriek  out,  amaz'd,  at  the  new  pangs  they  feci, 

And  dread  the  echoes  of  the  found. 

The  lofty  wretch,  arm'd  and  array'd 
In  gaudy  pride,   finks  down  his  impious  head, 
Plunges   in  dark  defpair,  and  mingles  with  the  dead. 

XL 

Now,  Mufe,  affume  a  fofter  drain, 

Now  foothe  the  finner's  raging  fmart  ; 
Borrow  of  GOUGE  the  wondrous  art 
To  calm  the  furging  confeience  and  affuage  the  pain  : 

He  from  a  bleeding  God  derives 

Life  for  the  fouls  that  guilt  had  flain, 
And  ilraight  the  dying  rebel  lives, 

The  dead  arife  again  ; 
The  opening  fkies  almofr.  obey 
His  powerful  fong  ;   a  heavenly  ray 
Awakes  defpair  to  light,  and  fheds  a  cheerful  day. 

His  wondrous  voice  rolls  back  the  fpheres, 

Recals  the  fcenes  of  ancient  years, 
To  make  the  Saviour  known  ; 

Sweetly  the  flying  charmer  roves 

Through  all  his  labours  and  his  loves, 
The  anguifh  of  his  crofs,  and  triumphs  of  his  throne. 

XII. 

Come,  he  invites  our  feet  to  try 

The  fteep  afcent  of  Calvary, 
And  fets  the  fatal  tree  before  our  eye. 

See  here  celeftial  forrow  reigns  ; 

Rude  nails  and  ragged  thorns  lay  by, 
Ting'd  with  the  crimfon  of  redeeming  veins  t 
In  wondrous  words  he  fang  the  vital  flood 
Where  all  our  fins  were  drown'd, 

Words  fit  to  heal  and  fit  to  wound, 
Sharp  as  the  fpcar,  and  balmy  as  the  blood. 


250     LTRIC   POEMS,     Book  III., 

In  his  difcourfe  divine 
Afrefh  the  purple  fountain  flow'd  : 
Our  falling  tears  kept  fympathetic  time, 
And  trickled  to  the  ground, 
While  every  accent  gave  a  doleful  found, 
Sad  as  the  breaking  heart- firings  of  th'expiring  God  ! 

XIII. 

Down  to  the  manfions  of  the  dead 
With  trembling  joy,  our  fouls  are  led 
The  captives  of  his  tongue  ; 
There  the  dear  Prince  of  Light  reclines  his  heat! 
Darknefs  and  fliades  among. 
With  pleafing  horror  we  furvey 

The  caverns  of  the  tomb 
Where  the  belov'd  Redeemer  lay, 
And  fhed  a  fweet  perfume. 
Hark  the  old  earthquake  roars  again 
In  GOUGE's  voice,  and  breaks  the  chain 
Of  heavy  death,  and   rends  the  tombs: 

The  rifing  God  !   he  comes  !   he  comes  ! 
With  throngs  of  waking  faints,  a  long  triumphing  train ! 

XIV. 

See  the  bright  fquadrons  of  the  (ley, 
Downward  on  wings  of  joy  a-nd  hafte  they  fly, 
Meet  their  returning  Sovereign,  and  attend  him  high. 

A  mining  car  the  Conqueror  fills, 

Form'd  of  a  golden  cloud  ; 
Slowly  the  pomp  moves  up  the  azure  hills  ; 

Old  Satan  foams  and  yells  aloud, 
And  gnaws  th'eternal  brafs  that  binds  him  to  the  wheclr.. 
The  opening  gates  of  blifs  receive  their  King  ; 

The  Father-GoD  fmilcs  on  his  Son, 
Pays  him  the  honours  he  has  won  ; 
The  lofty  thrones  adore,  and  little  cherubi  fing. 


TO   THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  DEAD.  25  I 

Behold  him  on  his  native  throne  ; 

Glory  ins  faft  upon  his  head  ; 

Drefs'd  in  new   light  and  beamy  robes, 
His  hand  rolls  on  the  feafons,  and  the  mining  globes, 
And  fways  the  living  worlds  and  regions  of  the  dead, 

XV. 

GOUGE  was  his  envoy  to  this  realm  below  : 
Vaft  was  his  truft  and  great  his  /kill  ; 

Bright  the  credentials  he  could  mow, 
And  thoufauds  own'd  the  feal. 

His  hallow'd  lips  could  well  impart 

The  grace,  the  promife,  and  command  : 
He  knew  the  pity  of  IMMANUEL's  heart, 
And  terrors  of  JEHOVAH's  hand  ! 

How  did  our  fouls  Mart  out  to  hear 

The  embaffies  of  love  he  bare, 

While  every  ear  in  rapture  hung 
Upon  the  charming  wonders  of  his  tongue. 
Life's  bufy  cares  a  facred  filence  bound, 

Attention  flood  with  all  her  powers, 

With  fixed  eyes  and  awe  profound, 

Chain'd  to  the  pleafure  of  the  found, 
Nor  knew  the  flying  hours. 

XVI. 

But,  oh  !    my  everlafting  grief  ! 
Heaven  has  recall'd  his  envoy  from  our  eyes  ; 
Hence  deluges  of  forrow  rife, 
Nor  hope  th'impofilble  relief  ! 
Ye  remnants  of  the  facred  tribe, 
Who  feel  the  lofs,  come  mare  the  fmart, 

And   mix  your  groans  with  mine. 
Where  is  the  tongue  that  can  defcribe 
Infinite  things  with  equal  art, 

Or  language  fo  divine  ? 


252      LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  III. 

Our  paffions  want  the  heavenly  flame  ; 
Almighty  love  breathes  faintly  in  our  fongs, 
And  awful    thteat'nings  languifh  on  our  tongues  ! 

HOWE  is  a  great  but  fingle  name  : 
Amidit  the  crowd  he  (lands  alone  ; 
Stands  yet,  but  with  his  Harry  pinions  on, 
Drefs'd  for  the  flight,  and  ready  to  be  gone  ! 

Eternal  God,  command  his  flay  ; 

Stretch  the  dear  months  of  his  delay  ! 
Oh  !   we  could  wifh  his  age  were  one  immortal  day  ! 

But  when  the  flaming  chariot's  come, 
And  mining  guards  t'attend  thy  prophet  home, 

Amidvt  a  thoufand  weeping  eyes, 
Send  an  Eliflia  down,  a  foul  of  equal  fize, 
Or  burn  this  worthlefs  globe,  and  take  us  to  the  /kies  .' 


i 


st- 


